A  Child  of  the  Jago 


Th  c   Old    Jaqo 

Sketch    Plan 


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A  Child  of  the  Jago 


BY 


Arthur  Morrison 


Author  of 
"TALES   OF  MEAN    STREETS' 


CHICAGO 
HERBERT  S.  STONE  &  CO. 


MDCCCXCVI 


COPYRIGHT,     1896,     BY 
HERBERT  S.  STONE  &,  CO. 


TO 

ARTHUR  OSBORNE  JAY 


VICAR  OF  HOLY  TRINITY,  SHOREDITCH 


<-^      «       It      TT 


—  Woe  unto  the  foolish  prophets, 
that  follow  their  own  spirit ,  and 
have  seen  nothing  ! 
— Becausey  even  because  they 
have  seduced  my  people ,  saying. 
Peace  ;  and  there  was  no  peace  ; 
and  one  built  up  a  wall,  and  lo, 
others  daubed  it  with  untempered 
mortar: 

Say  unto  them  which  daub  it 
with  untempered  mortar  that  it 
shall  fall :  there  shall  be  an 
overflowing  shower ;  and  ye,  O 
great  hailstones,  shall  fall ;  and 
a  stormy  wind  shall  rend  it. 

Lo,  when  the  wall  is  fallen, 
shall  it  not  be  said  unto  you. 
Where  is  the  daubing  wherewith 
ye  have  daubed  it  ? 

—  EZEKIEL  xiii,  3,    10-I2 


A  Child  of  the  Jago 


I 

It  was  past  the  mid  of  a  summer  night 
in  the  old  Jago.  The  narrow  street  was 
all  the  blacker  for  the  lurid  sky  ;  for  there 
was  a  fire  in  a  further  part  of  Shoreditch, 
and  the  welkin  was  an  infernal  coppery  glare. 
Below,  the  hot  heavy  air  lay,  a  rank  op- 
pression, on  the  contorted  forms  of  those 
who  made  for  sleep  on  the  pavement :  and 
in  it,  and  through  it  all,  there  rose  from 
foul  earth  and  grimed  walls  a  close,  ming- 
led stink  —  the  odour  of  the  Jago. 

From  where,  off  Shoreditch  High  Street, 
a  narrow  passage,  set  across  with  posts, gave 
menacing  entrance  on  one  end  of  Old 
Jago   Street,  to  where  the  other  end  lost 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

itself  in  the  black  beyond  Jago  Row ;  from 
where  Jago  Row  began  south  at  Meakin 
Street,  to  where  it  ended  north  at  Honey 
Lane ;  there  the  Jago,  for  one  hundred 
years  the  blackest  pit  in  London,  lay  and 
festered ;  and  half  way  along  Old  Jago 
Street  a  narrow_ji.rclmay_gaA:e„jLi^on^ 
Court,  the  blackest  hole  in  all  that.4)it. 

A  square  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  yards 
or  less — that  was  all  there  was  of  the 
Jago.  But  in  that  square  the  human  pop- 
ulation swarmed  in  thousands.  Old  Jago 
Street,  New  Jago  Street,  Half  Jago  street 
lay  parallel,  east  and  west ;  Jago  Row  at 
one  end  and  Edge  Lane  at  the  other  lay 
parallel  also,  stretching  north  and  south : 
foul  ways  all.  What  was  too  vile  for 
Kate  Street,  Seven  Dials,  and  RatclifF 
Highway  in  its  worst  day,  what  was  too 
useless,  incapable  and  corrupt — all  that 
teemed  in  the  Old  Jago. 

Old  Jago  Street  lay  black  and  close 
under  the  quivering  red  sky ;  and  slinking 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGG 

forms,  as  of  great  rats,  followed  one  ano- 
ther quickly  between  the  posts  in  the  gut 
by  the  High  Street,  and  scattered  over  the 
Jago.  For  the  crowd  about  the  fire  was 
now  small,  the  police  was  there  in  force, 
and  every  safe  pocket  had  been  tried.  Soon 
the  incursion  ceased,  and  the  sky,  flicker- 
ing and  brightening  no  longer,  settled  to  a 
sullen  flush.  On  the  pavement  some 
writhed  wearily,  longing  for  sleep;  others, 
despairing  of  it,  sat  and  lolled,  and  a  few 
talked.  They  were  not  there  for  lack  of 
shelter,  but  because  in  this  weather  repose 
was  less  unlikely  in  the  street  than  within 
doors;  and  the  lodgings  of  the  few  who 
nevertheless  abode  at  home  were  marked, 
here  and  there,  by  the  lights  visible  from 
the  windows.  For  in  this  place  none  ever 
slept  without  a  light,  because  of  three  sorts 
of  vermin  that  light  in  some  sort  keeps  at 
bay :  vermin  which  added  to  existence 
here  a  terror  not  to  be  guessed  by  the  un- 
afllicted,  who  object  to  being  told  of  it. 
3 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

For  on  them  that  lay  writhen  and  gasping 
on  the  pavement ;  on  them  that  sat  among 
them  ;  on  them  that  rolled  and  blasphemed 
in  the  lighted  rooms  ;  on  every  moving 
creature  in  this,  the  Old  Jago,  day  and 
night,  sleeping  and  waking,  the  third  plague 
of  Egypt,  and  more,  lay  unceasing. 

The  stifling  air  took  a  further  oppression 
from  the  red  sky.  By  the  dark  entrance 
to  Jago  Court  a  man  arose,  flinging  out  an 
oath,  and  sat  with  his  head  bowed  in  his 
hands. 

"  Ah-h-h-h-,''  he  said.  "I  wish  I 
was  dead  :  an'  kep'  a  cawfy  shop."  He 
looked  aside  from  his  hands  to  his  neigh- 
bours, but  Kiddo  Cook's  idea  of  heaven 
was  no  new  thing,  and  the  sole  answer  was 
a  snort  from  a  dozing  man  a  yard  away. 

Kiddo  Cook  felt  in  his  pocket  and  pro- 
duced a  pipe  and  a  screw  of  paper.  "  This 
is  a  bleed' n'  unsocial  sort  o'  evenin'  party, 
this  is,"  he  said.  "  An'  'ere  's  the  on'y 
real  tofF  in  the  mob  with  'ardly  'arf  a  pipe- 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

full  left,  an'  no  lights.  D'  y*  *ear,  me 
lord"  —  leaning  toward  the  dozing  neigh- 
bour—  "got  a  match  ?" 

"Got'  'ell!" 

"  O,  wot  'orrid  langwidge  !  It 's  shock- 
in*,  blimy.  Arter  that  y' ought  to  find  me 
a  match.     Come  on." 

"Go  t"ell!" 

A  lank,  elderly  man,  who  sat  with  his 
back  to  the  wall,  pushed  up  a  battered  tall 
hat  from  his  eyes,  and,  producing  a  box  of 
matches,  exclaimed  "  Hell  ?  And  how 
far  's  that  ?  You  're  in  it ! "  He  flung 
abroad  a  bony  hand,  and  glanced  upward. 
Over  his  forehead  a  greasy  black  curl  dan- 
gled and  shook,  as  he  shuddered  back 
against  the  wall.  "  My  God,  there  can  be 
no  hell  after  this  ! " 

"Ah,"  Kiddo  Cook  remarked,  as  he 
lit  his  pipe  in  the  hollow  of  his  hands, 
"  that 's  a  comfort,  Mr.  Beveridge,  any 
'ow."  He  returned  the  matches,  and  the 
old  man,  tilting  his  hat  forward,  was  silent. 
5 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

A  woman,  gripping  a  shawl  about  her 
shoulders,  came  furtively  along  from  the 
posts,  with  a  man  walking  in  her  tracks  — 
a  little  unsteadily.  He  was  not  of  the 
Jago,  but  a  decent  young  workman,  by  his 
dress.  The  sight  took  Kiddo  Cook's  idle 
eye,  and  when  the  couple  had  passed,  he 
said  meditatively:  "There's  Billy  Leary 
in  luck  agin ;  'is  missis  do  pick  'em  up 
s'  *elp  me.  I  'd  carry  the  cosh  meself  if 
I  *d  got  a  woman  like  'er." 

Cosh-carrying  was  near  to  being  the 
major  industry  of  the  Jago.  The  cosh 
was  a  foot  length  of  iron  rod,  with  a  knob 
at  one  end  and  a  hook  (or  a  ring)  at  the 
other.  The  craftsman,  carrying  it  in  his 
coat  sleeve,  waited  about  dark  staircase 
corners  till  his  wife  (married  or  not)  brought 
in  a  well-drunken  stranger;  when,  with  a 
sudden  blow  behind  the  head,  the  stranger 
was  happily  coshed,  and  whatever  was 
found  on  him,  as  he  lay  insensible,  was  the 
profit  on  the  transaction.  In  the  hands  of 
6 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

capable  practitioners  this  industry  yielded 
a  comfortable  subsistence  for  no  great 
exertion.  Most,  of  course,  depended  on 
the  woman  :  whose  duty  it  was  to  keep 
the  other  artist  going  in  subjects.  There 
were  legends  of  surprising  ingatherings 
achieved  by  wives  of  especial  diligence  : 
one  of  a  woman  who  had  brought  to  the 
cosh  some  six-and-twenty  on  a  night  of 
public  rejoicing.  This  was,  however,  a 
story  years  old,  and  may  have  been  no 
more  than  an  exemplary  fiction  designed, 
like  a  Sunday  School  book,  to  convey  a 
counsel  of  perfection  to  the  dutiful  ma- 
trons of  the  Old  Jago. 

The  man  and  woman  vanished  in  a 
doorway  near  the  Jago  Row  end,  where, 
for  some  reason,  dozers  were  fewer  than 
about  the  portal  of  Jago  Court.  There 
conversation  flagged,  and  a  broken  snore 
was  heard.  It  was  a  quiet  night,  as  quiet- 
ness was  counted  in  the  Jago ;  for  it  was 
too  hot  for  most  to  fight  in  that  stifling 
7 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

air — too  hot  to  do  more  than  turn  on  the 
stones  and  swear.  Still,  the  last  hoarse 
yelps  of  a  combat  of  women  came  intermit- 
tently from  Half  Jago  Street,  in  the  further 
confines. 

In  a  little  while  something  large  and 
dark  was  pushed  forth  from  the  door- 
opening  near  Jago  Row,  which  Billy 
Leary's  spouse  had  entered.  The  thing 
rolled  over  and  lay  tumbled  on  the  pave- 
ment, for  a  time  unnoticed.  It  might  have 
been  yet  another  would-be  sleeper,  but  for 
its  stillness.  Just  such  a  thing  it  seemed, 
belike,  to  two  that  lifted  their  heads  and 
peered  from  a  few  yards  off,  till  they  rose 
on  hands  and  knees  and  crept  to  where  it 
lay — Jago  rats,  both.  A  man  it  was ; 
with  a  thick  smear  across  his  face,  and 
about  his  head  the  source  of  the  dark  trickle 
that  sought  the  gutter  deviously  over  the 
broken  flags.  The  drab  stuff  of  his  pockets 
peeped  out  here  and  there  in  a  crumpled 
bunch,  and  his  waistcoat  gaped  where  the 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

watch-guard  had  been.  Clearly,  here  was 
an  uncommonly  remunerative  cosh — a 
cosh  so  good  that  the  boots  had  been  neg- 
lected, and  remained  on  the  man*s  feet. 
These  the  kneeling  two  unlaced  deftly, 
and,  rising,  prize  in  hand,  vanished  in  the 
deeper  shadow  of  Jago  Row. 

A  small  boy,  whom  they  met  full  tilt  at 
the  corner,  staggered  out  to  the  gutter  and 
flung  a  veteran  curse  after  them.  He  was 
a  slight  child,  by  whose  size  you  might 
have  judged  his  age  at  five.  But  his  face 
was  of  serious  and  troubled  age.  One 
who  knew  the  children  of  the  Jago,  and 
could  tell,  might  have  held  him  eight,  or 
from  that  to  nine. 

He  replaced  his  hands  in  his  trousers 
pockets  and  trudged  up  the  street.  As  he 
brushed  by  the  coshed  man  he  glanced  again 
toward  Jago  Row,  and,  jerking  his  thumb 
that  way,  "  Done  'im  for  'is  boots,"  he 
piped.  But  nobody  marked  him  till  he 
reached  Jago  Court,  when  old  Beveridge, 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

pushing  back  his  hat  once  more,  called 
sweetly  and  silkily,  "  Dicky  Perrott !  '*  and 
beckoned  with  his  finger. 

The  boy  approached,  and  as  he  did  so 
the  man's  skeleton  hand  suddenly  shot  out 
and  gripped  him  by  the  collar.  "  It-never- 
does-to-see-too-much  !  "  Beveridge  said,  in 
a  series  of  shouts,  close  to  the  boy's  ear. 
"  Now  go  home,"  he  added  in  a  more  or- 
dinary tone,  with  a  push  to  make  his 
meaning  plain:  and  straightway  relapsed 
against  the  wall. 

The  boy  scowled  and  backed  off  the 
pavement.  His  ragged  jacket  was  coarsely 
made  from  one  much  larger,  and  he  hitched 
the  collar  over  his  shoulder  as  he  slunk 
toward  a  doorway  some  few  yards  on. 
Front  doors  were  used  merely  as  firewood 
in  the  Old  Jago,  and  most  had  been  burnt 
there  many  years  ago.  If,  perchance,  one 
could  have  been  found  still  on  its  hinges  it 
stood  ever  open,  and  probably  would  not 
shut.     Thus  at  night  the  Jago  doorways 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

were  a  row  of  black  holes,  foul  and  for- 
bidding. 

Dicky  Perrott  entered  his  hole  with 
caution,  for  anywhere,  in  the  passage  and 
on  the  stairs,  somebody  might  be  lying 
drunk,  against  whom  it  would  be  unsafe 
to  stumble.  He  found  nobody,  however, 
and  climbed  and  reckoned  his  way  up  the 
first  stair-flight  with  the  necessary  regard 
for  the  treads  that  one  might  step  through 
and  the  rails  that  had  gone  from  the  side. 
Then  he  pushed  open  the  door  of  the  first- 
floor  back  and  was  at  home. 

A  little  heap  of  guttering  grease,  not 
long  ago  a  candle  end,  stood  and  spread  on 
the  mantel-piece,  and  gave  irregular  light 
from  its  drooping  wick.  A  thin-railed 
iron  bedstead,  bent  and  staggering,  stood 
against  a  wall,  and  on  its  murky  coverings 
a  half-dressed  woman  sat  and  neglected  a 
baby  that  lay  by  her  grieving  and  wheezing. 
The  woman  had  a  long  dolorous  face, 
empty  of  expression  and  weak  of  mouth. 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

"Where  'a*  you  bin,  Dicky?'*  she 
asked,  rather  complaining  than  asking. 
"  It 's  sich  low  hours  for  a  boy." 

Dicky  glanced  about  the  room.  "  Got 
anythink  to  eat?"  he  asked. 

"  I  dunno,"  she  answered  listlessly. 
"  P'r'aps  there  's  a  bit  o'  bread  in  the  cup- 
board. I  do  n't  want  nothin',  it 's  so  'ot. 
An'  father  ain't  been  'ome  since  tea-time." 

The  boy  rummaged  and  found  a  crust. 
Gnawing  at  this  he  crossed  to  where  the 
baby  lay.  "  'Ullo,  Looey,"  he  said,  bend- 
ing and  patting  the  muddy  cheek.    "  'Ullo!" 

The  baby  turned  feebly  on  its  back, 
and  set  up  a  thin  wail.  Its  eyes  were 
large  and  bright,  its  tiny  face  was  pite- 
ously  flea-bitten  and  strangely  old.  "  Wy, 
she's  'ungry,  mother,"  said  Dicky  Per- 
rott,  and  took  the  little  thing  up. 

He  sat  on  a  small  box  and  rocked  the 
baby  on  his  knees,  feeding  it  with  morsels 
of  chewed  bread.  The  mother,  dolefully 
inert,   looked    on   and    said  :    "  She 's   that 

12 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   J  A  GO 

backward  I  'm  quite  wore  out ;  more  'n 
ten  months  old  an'  don't  even  crawl  yut. 
It  's  a  never-endin'   trouble,   is   children." 

She  sighed,  and  presently  stretched  her- 
self on  the  bed.  The  boy  rose,  and  car- 
rying his  little  sister  with  care,  for  she  was 
dozing,  essayed  to  look  through  the  grimy 
window.  The  dull  flush  still  spread  over- 
head, but  Jago  Court  lay  darkling  below, 
with  scarce  a  sign  of  the  ruinous  back  yards 
that  edged  it  on  this  and  the  opposite  sides, 
and  nothing  but  blackness  between. 

The  boy  returned  to  his  box,  and  sat. 
Then  he  said,  "  I  do  n't  s'pose  father 's 
'avin'  a  sleep  outside,  eh  ?" 

The  woman  sat  up  with  some  show  of 
energy.  "Wot?"  she  said  sharply.  "Sleep 
out  in  the  street  like  them  low  Ranns  an' 
Learys  ?  I  should  'ope  not.  It  's  bad 
enough  livin'  'ere  at  all  an'  me  being  used 
to  different  things  once,  an'  all.  You 
ain't  seen  'im  outside,'ave  ye  ?" 

"  No,  I  ain't  seen  'im  ;  I  jist  looked  in 
13 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

the  court.'*  Then  after  a  pause,  "  I  'ope 
'e'sdone  a  click,"  the  boy  said. 

His  mother  winced.  "  I  dunno  wot  you 
mean,  Dicky,"  she  said,  but  falteringly. 
"  You — you  're  gittin'  that  low  an' — " 

"  ^y>  copped  somethink,  o'  course. 
Nicked  somethink.     You  know." 

"  If  you  say  sich  things  as  that  I'll  tell 
'im  wot  you  say,  an'  'e  '11  pay  you.  We 
ain't  that  sort  o'  people,  Dicky,  you  ought 
to  know.  I  was  alwis  kep'  respectable 
an'  straight  all  my  life,  I  'm  sure,  an' — " 

"  I  know.  You  said  so  before,  to  father 
—  1  'eard :  wen  'e  brought  'ome  that 
there  yuller  prop — the  necktie  pin.  Wy, 
where  did  'e  git  that?  'E  ain't  'ad  a  job  for 
munse  an'  munse ;  where 's  the  yan- 
nups  come  from  wot 's  bin  for  to  pay 
the  rent,  an'  git  the  toke,  an'  milk  for 
Looey?  Think  I  dunno  ?  I  ain't  a  kid; 
I  know." 

"  Dicky,  Dicky  !  you  must  n't  say 
sich  things  !  "  was  all  the  mother  could 
14 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

find  to  say,  with  tears  in  her  slack  eyes. 
"It's  wicked  an' — an'  low.  An' you 
must  alwis  be  respectable  an'  straight, 
Dicky,  an'  you'll  get  on  then." 

"  Straight  people 's  fools,  /reckon.  Kiddo 
Cook  says  that,  an'  'e  's  as  wide  as  Broad 
Street.  Wen  I  grow  up  I'm  goin'  to  git 
tofF's  close  an'  be  in  the  'igh  mob.  They 
does  big  clicks." 

"  They  git  put  in  a  dark  prison  for 
years  an'  years,  Dicky, —  an' — an'  if 
you  *re  sich  a  wicked  low  boy,  father  'II 
give  you  the  strap  —  'ard,"  the  mother 
returned,  with  what  earnestness  she  might. 
"  Gimme  the  baby  an'  you  go  to  bed  ;  go 
on,  'fore  father  comes." 

Dicky  handed  over  the  baby,  whose 
wizen  face  was  now  relaxed  in  sleep,  and 
slowly  disencumbered  himself  of  the  un- 
gainly jacket,  staring  at  the  wall  in  a  brown 
study.  "  It 's  the  mugs  wot  git  took,"  he 
said,  absently.  "  An'  quoddin  ain't  so 
bad."  Then, after  a  pause, he  turned  and 
15 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

added  suddenly  :  "  S'pose  father  '11  be 
smugged   some  day,  eh,  mother  ?  " 

His  mother  made  no  reply,  but  bent 
languidly  over  the  baby  with  an  indefinite 
pretence  of  settling  it  in  a  place  on  the 
bed.  Soon  Dicky  himself,  in  the  short 
and  ragged  shirt  he  had  worn  under  the 
jacket,  burrowed  head  first  among  the 
dingy  coverings  at  the  foot,  and  protruding 
his  head  at  the  further  side  took  his  ac- 
customed place  crosswise  at  the  extreme 
end. 

The  filthy  ceiling  lit  and  darkened  by  fits 
as  the  candle-wick  fell  and  guttered  to  its 
end.  He  heard  his  mother  rise  and  find 
another  fragment  of  candle  to  light  by  its 
expiring  flame,  but  he  lay  still  wakeful. 
After  a  time  he  asked  :  "  Mother,  why 
do  n't  you  come  to  bed  ?  " 

"Waiting  for  father.     Go  to  sleep." 

He  was  silent  for  a  little.  But  brain 
and  eyes  were  wide  awake,  and  soon  he 
spoke  again.  "Them  noo  'uns  in  the 
i6 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

front  room,'*  he  said.  "  Ain't  the  man 
give  'is  wife  a  'idin'yut  ?  " 

"  No." 

"Nor  yut  the  boy  —  'umpty- backed 
un  ? '» 

"  No." 

"  Seems  they  Ve  mighty  pertickler. 
Fancy  theirselves  too  good  for  their  neigh- 
bours -,  I  'eard  Pigeony  Poll  say  that ;  on'y 
Poll  said—" 

"  You  must  n't  never  listen  to  Pigeony 
Poll,  Dicky.  Ain't  you  'eard  me  say  so  ? 
Go  to  sleep.     'Ere  comes  father." 

There  was,  indeed,  a  step  on  the  stairs, 
but  it  passed  the  landing  and  went  on  to 
the  top  floor.  Dicky  lay  awake,  but  silent, 
gazing  upward  and  back  through  the  dirty 
window  just  over  his  head.  It  was  very 
hot,  and  he  fidgeted  uncomfortably,  fear- 
ing to  turn  or  toss  lest  the  baby  should 
wake  and  cry.  There  came  a  change  in  the 
hue  of  the  sky,  and  he  watched  the  patch 
within  his  view,  until  the  red  seemed  to 
J7 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

gather  in  spots  and  fade  a  spot  at  a  time. 
Then  at  last  there  was  a  tread  on  the  stairs 
that  stayed  at  the  door,  and  father  had 
come  home.      Dicky  lay  still,  and  listened. 

"  Lor,  Josh,  where  ye  bin  ? "  Dicky 
heard  his  mother  say.  "  I  'm  almost  wore 
out  a-waitin'." 

"Awright,  awright"  —  this  in  a  hoarse 
grunt,  little  above  a  whisper — "  Got  any 
water  up  'ere  ?     Wash  this  'ere  stick." 

There  was  a  pause,  wherein  Dicky 
knew  his  mother  looked  about  her  in 
vacant  doubt  as  to  whether  or  not  water 
was  in  the  room.  Then  a  quick,  under- 
toned  scream,  and  the  stick  rattled  heavily 
on  the  floor.  "  It 's  sticky  !"  his  mother 
said.  "O,  my  Gawd,  Josh,  look  at  that — 
an'  bits  o'  'air,  too  ! "  The  great  shadow 
of  an  open  hand  shot  up  across  the  ceiling, 
and  fell  again.  "  O,  Josh!  O,  my  Gawd! 
You  ain't,  'ave  ye?  Not  —  not  —  not 
that?" 


i8 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

"  Not  wot  ?  Gawblimy,  not  wot  ? 
Shutcher  mouth.  If  a  man  fights  you  're 
got  to  fight  back,  ain'cher  ?  Anyone  'ud 
think  it  was  a  murder,  to  look  at  ye.  I 
ain't  sich  a  damn  fool  as  that.  'Ere,  pull 
up  that  board." 

Dicky  knew  the  loose  floor-board  that 
was  lifted  with  a  slight  groaning  jar.  It 
was  to  the  right  of  the  hearth,  and  he  had 
shammed  sleep  when  it  had  been  lifted  once 
before.  His  mother  whimpered  and  cried 
quietly.  "  You  '11  git  in  trouble.  Josh," 
she  said.  "  I  wish  you  'd  git  a  reg'lar  job, 
Josh,  like  wot  you  used  —  I  do  —  I  do." 

The  board  was  shut  down  again.  Dicky 
Perrott,  through  one  opened  eye,  saw  the 
sky,  a  pale  grey  above,  and  hoped  the  click 
had  been  a  good  one ;  hoped  also  that  it 
might  bring  bullock's  liver  for  dinner. 

Out  in  the  Jago  the  pale  dawn  brought 
a    cooler    air    and    a    chance      of     sleep. 
From  the  paving  of  Old  Jago  street  sad 
19 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

grey  faces,  open-mouthed,  looked  upward 
as  from  the  Valley  of  Dry  Bones.  Down 
by  Jago  Row  the  coshed  subject,  with  the 
blood  dry  on  his  face,  felt  the  colder  air 
and  moved  a  leg. 


II 

Three  quarters  of  a  mile  east  of  the 
Jago's  outermost  limit  was  the  East  End 
Elevation  Mission  and  Pansophical  Insti- 
tute :  such  was  the  amazing  success  where- 
of, that  a  new  wing  had  been  built,  and  was 
now  to  be  declared  open  by  a  Bishop  of 
great  eminence  and  industry. 

The  triumphs  of  the  East  End  Eleva- 
tion Mission  and  Pansophical  Institute  were 
known  and  appreciated  far  from  East 
London,  by  people  who  knew  less  of 
that  part  than  of  Asia  Minor.  Indeed, 
they  were  chiefly  appreciated  by  these. 
There  were  kept,  perpetually  on  tap  for 
the  aspiring  East  Ender,  the  Higher  Life, 
the  Greater  Thought,  and  the  Wider  Hu- 
manity: with  other  radiant  abstractions, 
mostly  in  the  comparative  degree;  specifics 
all  for  the  manufacture   of  the    Superior 


A    CHILD    OF    THE  J  AGO 

Person.  There  were  many  Lectures  given 
on  still  more  subjects.  Pictures  were  bor- 
rowed and  shewn,  with  revelations  to  the 
Uninformed  of  the  morals  ingeniously  con- 
cealed by  the  painters.  The  Uninformed 
were  also  encouraged  to  debate  and  to  pro- 
duce papers  on  literary  and  political  mat- 
ters, while  still  unencumbered  with  the 
smallest  knowledge  thereof:  for  the  En- 
largement of  the  Understanding  and  the 
Embellishment  of  the  Intellect.  And 
there  were  classes,  and  clubs,  and  news- 
papers, and  games  of  draughts,  and  mu- 
sical evenings,  and  a  brass  band,  whereby 
the  life  of  the  Hopeless  Poor  might  be 
coloured,  and  the  Misery  of  the  Sub- 
merged alleviated.  The  wretches  who 
crowded  to  these  benefits  were  trades- 
men's sons,  small  shopkeepers  and  their 
families,  and  neat  clerks,  with  here  and 
there  a  smart  young  artisan  of  one  of  the 
especially  respectable  trades.  They  freely 
patronised  the  clubs,  the  musical  evenings. 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

the  brass  band,  and  the  bagatelle  boards 
and  those  who  took  themselves  seriously 
debated  and  Mutually -Improved  with 
pomp.  Others,  subject  to  savage  fits  of 
wanting-to-know,  made  short  rushes  at 
random  evening  classes,  with  intervals  of 
disgusted  apathy.  Altogether,  a  number 
of  decently-dressed  and  mannerly  young 
men  passed  many  evenings  at  the  Pan- 
sophical  Institute  in  harmless  pleasures, 
and  often  with  an  agreeable  illusion  of  in- 
tellectual advance. 

Other  young  men,  more  fortunately  cir- 
cumstanced, with  the  educational  varnish 
fresh  and  raw  upon  them,  came  from  afar, 
equipped  with  a  foreign  mode  of  thought 
and  a  proper  ignorance  of  the  world  and 
the  proportions  of  things,  as  Missionaries. 
Not  without  some  anxiety  to  their  parents, 
they  plunged  into  the  perilous  deeps  of  the 
East  End,  to  struggle — for  a  fortnight — 
with  its  suffering  and  its  brutishness.  So 
they  went  among  the  tradesmen's  sons 
23 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

and  the  shopmen,  who  endured  them  as 
they  endured  the  nominal  subscription; 
and  they  came  away  with  a  certain  relief, 
and  with  some  misgiving  as  to  what  im- 
pression they  had  made,  and  what  they  had 
done  to  make  it.  But  it  was  with  knowl- 
edge and  authority  that  they  went  back 
among  those  who  had  doubted  their  per- 
sonal safety  in  the  dark  region.  The  East 
End,  they  reported,  was  nothing  like  what 
it  was  said  to  be.  You  could  see  much 
worse  places  up  West.  The  people  were 
quite  a  decent  sort,  in  their  way  :  shocking 
Bounders,  of  course,  but  quite  clean  and 
quiet,  and  very  comfortably  dressed,  with 
ties  and  collars  and  watches. 

But  the  Missionaries  were  few,  and  the 
subscribers  to  the  Elevation  Mission  were 
many.  Most  had  been  convinced,  by 
what  they  had  been  told,  by  what  they 
had  read  in  charity  appeals,  and  perhaps 
by  what  they  had  seen  in  police-court  and 
inquest  reports,  that  the  whole  East  End 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

was  a  wilderness  of  slums;  slums  packed 
with  starving  human  organisms,  without 
minds  and  without  morals,  preying  on  each 
other  alive.  These  subscribers  visited  the 
Institute  by  twos  and  threes,  on  occasions 
of  particular  festivity  among  the  neat  clerks, 
and  were  astonished  at  the  wonderful  effects 
of  Pansophic  Elevation  on  the  degraded 
classes,  their  aspect  and  their  habits.  Per- 
haps it  was  a  concert  where  nobody  was 
drunk;  perhaps  a  little  dance,  where  no- 
body howled  a  chorus,  nor  wore  his  hat, 
nor  punched  his  partner  in  the  eye.  It  was 
a  great  marvel,  whereunto  the  observers 
testified:  so  that  more  subscriptions  came, 
and  the  new  wing  was  built. 

The  afternoon  was  bright,  and  all  was 
promising.  A  small  crowd  of  idlers  hung 
about  the  main  door  of  the  Institute  and 
stared  at  a  string  of  flags.  Away  to  the 
left  stood  the  new  wing,  a  face  of  fair, 
clean  brick;  the  ornamentation,  of  approved 
earnestness,  in  terra-cotta  squares  at  regu- 
25 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

lar  intervals.  Within  sat  many  friends 
and  relations  of  the  shopmen  and  superior 
mechanics,  and  waited  for  the  Bishop,  the 
Eminences  of  the  Elevation  Mission  sit- 
ting apart  on  the  platform.  Without, among 
the  idlers,  waited  Dicky  Perrott.  His  no- 
tions of  what  was  going  on  were  indis- 
tinct; but  he  had  a  belief,  imbibed  through 
rumour  and  tradition,  that  all  celebrations  at 
such  large  buildings  were  accompanied  by 
the  consumption,  in  the  innermost  recesses, 
of  cake  and  tea.  Even  to  be  near  cake 
was  something.  In  Shoreditch  High  Street 
was  a  shop  where  cake  stood  in  the  win- 
dow in  great  slabs,  one  slab  over  another, 
to  an  incalculable  value.  At  this  win- 
dow— against  it,  as  near  as  possible,  his 
face  flattened  white — Dickey  would  stand 
till  the  shop-keeper  drove  him  off;  till  he 
had  but  to  shut  his  eyes  to  see  once  more, 
in  the  shifting  black,  the  rich  yellow  sec- 
tions with  their  myriad  raisins.  Once  a 
careless  errand  boy,  who  had  bought  a 
26 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

slice,  took  so  clumsy  a  bite  as  he  emerged 
that  near  a  third  of  the  whole  piece  broke 
and  fell;  and  this  Dickey  had  snatched 
from  the  paving  and  bolted  with  ere 
the  owner  quite  saw  his  loss.  This  was 
a  superior  sort  of  cake,  at  a  penny.  But 
once  he  had  managed  to  buy  himself  a 
slice  of  an  inferior  sort  for  a  half-penny  in 
Meakin  Street. 

Dicky  Perrott,  these  blessed  memories 
in  his  brain,  stood  unobtrusively  near  the 
door,  with  the  big  jacket  buttoned  over  as 
decently  as  might  be,  full  of  a  desperate 
design  :  which  was  to  get  inside  by  what- 
soever manner  of  trick  or  opportunity  he 
might,  and  so,  if  it  were  humanly  possible, 
to  the  cake. 

The  tickets  were  being  taken  at  the 
door  by  an  ardent  young  Elevator  —  one 
of  the  Missionaries.  Him,  and  all  such 
washed  and  well-dressed  people,  Dicky  had 
learnt  to  hold  in  serene  contempt  when 
the  business  in  hand  was  dodging.     There 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

was  no  hurry  :  the  Elevator  might  waste 
his  vigilance  on  the  ticket-holders  for  some 
time  yet ;  and  Dicky  knew  better  than  to 
betray  the  smallest  sign  of  a  desire  for 
entrance  while  his  enemy's  attention  was 
awake. 

Carriages  drew  up,  and  yielded  more 
Eminences :  toward  the  end  the  Bishop 
himself,  whom  Dicky  observed  but  as  a 
pleasant-looking  old  gentleman  in  uncom- 
mon clothes ;  and  on  whom  he  bestowed 
no  more  thought  than  a  passing  wonder  at 
what  might  be  the  accident  to  his  hat 
which  had  necessitated  its  repair  with 
string. 

But  at  the  spikes  of  the  Bishop's  car- 
riage came  another,  and  out  of  that  there 
got  three  ladies,  friends  of  the  ticket  re- 
ceiver, on  whom  they  closed,  greeting  and 
shaking  hands ;  and  in  a  flash  Dicky  Per- 
rott  was  beyond  the  lobby  and  moving 
obscurely  along  the  walls  of  the  inner  hall, 
behind  pillars  and  in  shadow,  seeking  cake. 
28 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

The  Choral  Society  sang  their  lustiest, 
and  there  were  speeches.  Eminences  ex- 
pressed their  surprise  and  delight  at  finding 
the  people  of  the  East  End  gathered  in  the 
Institute  Building,  so  respectable  and  clean, 
ihanks  to  persistent,  indefatigable,  unselfish 
Elevation. 

The  good  Bishop,  amid  clapping  of 
hands  and  fluttering  of  handkerchiefs,  piped 
cherubically  of  everything.  He  rejoiced 
to  see  that  day,  whereon  the  helping  hand 
of  the  West  was  so  unmistakably  made 
apparent  in  the  East.  He  rejoiced  also  to 
find  himself  in  the  midst  of  so  admirably 
typical  an  assemblage  —  so  representative, 
if  he  might  say  so,  of  that  great  East  End 
of  London,  thirsting  and  crying  out  for  — 
for  Elevation;  for  that  —  ah  —  Elevation 
which  the  more  fortunately  circumstanced 
denizens  of — of  other  places,  had  so  munifi- 
cently— laid  on.  The  people  of  the  East 
End  had  been  sadly  misrepresented — in 
popular  periodicals  and  in — in  other  ways. 
29 


y 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

The  East  End,  he  was  convinced,  was  not 
so  black  as  it  was  painted  (applause).  He 
had  but  to  look  about  him  —  et  cetera,  et 
cetera.  He  questioned  whether  so  well- 
conducted,  morally-given  and  respectable  a 
gathering  could  be  brought  together  in  any 
West  End  parish  with  which  he  was  ac- 
quainted. It  was  his  most  pleasant  duty 
on  this  occasion  —  and  so  on  and  so  forth. 
Dicky  Perrott  had  found  the  cake.  It 
was  in  a  much  smaller  room  at  the  back 
of  the  hall,  wherein  it  was  expected  that 
the  Bishop  and  certain  Eminences  of  the 
platform  would  refresh  themselves  with 
tea  after  the  ceremony.  There  were 
heavy  drooping  curtains  at  the  door  of 
this  room,  and  deep  from  the  largest  folds 
the  ratling  from  the  Jago  watched.  The 
table  was  guarded  by  a  sour- faced  man  — 
just  such  a  man  as  drove  him  from  the 
window  of  the  cake-shop  in  Shoreditch 
High  Street.  Nobody  else  was  there  yet, 
and  plainly  the  sour-faced  man  must  be 
30 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

absent  or  busy  ere  the  cake  could  be  got  at. 

There  was  a  burst  of  applause  in  the 
hallj  the  new  wing  had  been  declared  open. 
Then  there  was  more  singing,  and  after 
that  much  shuffling  and  tramping,  for  every- 
body was  free  to  survey  the  new  rooms  on 
the  way  out ;  and  the  Importances  from  the 
platform  came  to  find  the  tea. 

Filling  the  room  and  standing  about  in 
little  groups  ;  chatting,  munching  and  sip- 
ping, while  the  sour-faced  man  distractedly 
floundered  amid  crockery ;  not  a  soul  of 
them  all  perceived  an  inconsiderable  small 
boy,  ducking  and  dodging  vaguely  among 
legs  and  'round  skirts,  making,  from  time  to 
time,  a  silent  snatch  at  a  plate  on  the  table  ; 
and  presently  he  vanished  altogether.  Then 
the  amiable  bishop,  beaming  over  the  tea- 
cup six  inches  from  his  chin,  at  two  cour- 
tiers of  the  clergy,  bethought  him  of  a  din- 
ner engagement,  and  passed  his  hand  down- 
ward over  the  rotundity  of  his  waistcoat. 

"  Dear,  dear,'*  said  the  Bishop,  glancing 
31 


A   CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

down  suddenly,  "  why  —  what  *s  become  of 
my  watch  ?  '* 

There  hung  three  inches  of  black  rib- 
bon, with  a  cut  end.  The  bishop  looked 
blankly  at  the  Elevators  about  him. 

Three  streets  off,  Dicky  Perrott,  with 
his  shut  fist  deep  in  his  breeches  pocket, 
and  a  gold  watch  in  the  fist,  ran  full  drive 
for  the  Old  Jago. 


Ill 

There  was  nobody  in  chase ;  but  Dicky 
Perrott,  excited  by  his  novel  exploit,  ran 
hard ;  forgetting  the  lesson  first  learnt  by 
every  child  of  the  Jago,  to  avoid,  as  far  as 
may  be,  suspicious  flight  in  open  streets. 
He  burst  into  the  Old  Jago  from  the  Jago 
Kow  corner,  by  Meakin  Street,  and  still 
he  ran.  A  small  boy  a  trifle  bigger  than 
himself  made  a  sharp  punch  at  him  as  he 
passed,  but  he  took  no  heed.  The  hulk- 
ing group  at  the  corner  of  Old  Jago 
Street,  ever  observant  of  weaklings  with 
plunder,  saw  him  and  one  tried  to  catch 
his  arm,  but  he  had  the  wit  to  dodge. 
Past  the  Jago  Court  passage  he  scudded, 
in  at  the  familiar  doorway  and  up  the 
stairs.  A  pale  hunchbacked  child,  clean 
and  wistful,  descended  and  him  Dicky 
33 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

flung  aside  and  half  downstairs  with  "Git 
out,  'ump!" 

Josh  Perrott  sat  on  the  bed,  eating  fried 
fish  from  an  oily  paper  ;  for  it  was  tea- 
time.  He  was  a  man  of  thirty-two,  of 
middle  height  and  stoutly  built,  with  a 
hard,  leathery  face  as  of  one  much  older. 
The  hair  about  his  mouth  seemed  always 
three  days  old  —  never  much  less  nor 
much  more.  He  was  a  plasterer — had,  at 
least,  so  described  himself  at  police-courts. 
But  it  was  long  since  he  had  plastered, 
though  he  still  walked  abroad  splashed 
and  speckled,  as  though  from  an  eruption 
of  inherent  plaster.  In  moments  of  pride 
he  declared  himself  the  only  member  of  his 
family  who  had  ever  learned  a  trade  and 
worked  at  it.  It  was  a  long  relinquished 
habit,  but  while  it  lasted  he  had  married  a 
\J  decent  boilermaker's  daughter,  who  had 
known  nothing  of  the  Jago  till  these  latter 
days.  One  other  boast  Josh  Perrott  had : 
that  nothing  but  shot  or  pointed  steel  could 
34 


J 


A   CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

hurt  him.  And  this,  too,  was  near  being 
a  true  boast ;  as  he  had  proved  in  more 
than  one  fight  in  the  local  arena — which 
was  Jago  Court.  Now  he  sat  peaceably 
on  the  edge  of  the  bed  and  plucked  with 
his  fingers  at  the  oily  fish,  while  his  wife 
grubbed  hopelessly  about  the  cupboard- 
shelves  for  the  screw  of  paper  which  was 
the  sugar-basin. 

Dicky  entered  at  a  burst.  "  Mother — 
father — look  !  I  done  a  click!  I  got  a 
clock — a  red  'un  !'* 

Josh  Perrott  stopped,  jaw  and  hand, 
with  a  pinch  of  fish  poised  in  air.  The 
woman  turned,  and  her  chin  fell.  "O 
Dicky,  Dicky,"  she  cried,  in  real  distress, 
"you  're  a  awful  low,  wicked  boy.  My 
Gawd,  Josh  'e — 'e  '11  grow  up  badj  I  said 
so." 


Josh  Perrott  bolted  the  pinch  of  fish, 

and  sucked  his  fingers  as  he  sprang  to  the 

door.      After   a    quick    glance    down   the 

stairs,  he    shut   it  and  turned    to   Dicky. 

35 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

'Where  d'  je  get  that,  ye  young  devel?" 
he  asked,  and  snatched  the  watch. 

"Claimed  it  auf  a  ol'  bloke  w*en  *e  was 
drinkin'  'is  tea,"  Dicky  replied  with 
sparkling  eyes.  "  Let 's  'ave  a  look  at  it, 
father." 

"  Did  *e  run  after  ye  ?  *' 

"No — didn't  know  nuffin  about  it.  I 
cut  'is  bit  o'  ribbin  with  my  knife."  Dicky 
held  up  a  treasured  relic  of  blade  and  han- 
dle found  in  a  gutter.  "Ain  'tcher  goin*  to 
let 's  'ave  a  look  at  it  ? " 

Josh  Perrott  looked  doubtfully  toward 
his  wife:  the  children  were  chiefly  her 
concern.  Of  her  sentiments  there  could 
be  no  mistake.  He  slipped  the  watch  into 
his  own  pocket  and  caught  Dicky  by  the 
collar. 

"  I  '11  give  you  somethink,  you  damn 
young  thief,"  he  exclaimed,  slipping  ofF  his 
belt.  "You'd  like  t'  'ave  us  all  in  stir 
for  a  year  or  two,  I  s'pose;  goin'  thievin* 


36 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

watches  like  a  growed-up  man."  And  he 
plied  the  belt  savagely,  while  Dicky, 
amazed,  breathless  and  choking,  spun  about 
him  with  piteous  squeals,  and  the  baby 
woke  and  puled  in  feeble  sympathy. 

There  was  a  rip,  and  the  collar  began 
to  leave  the  old  jacket.  Feeling  this.  Josh 
Perrott  released  it  and  with  a  quick  drive 
of  the  fist  in  the  neck,  sent  Dicky  stag- 
gering across  the  room.  Dicky  caught 
at  the  bed-frame,  and  limped  out  to  the 
landing,  sobbing  grievously  in  the  bend  of 
his  sleeve. 

It  was  more  than  his  mother  had  in- 
tended but  she  knew  better  than  to  attempt 
interference.  Now  that  he  was  gone  she 
said,  with  some  hesitation:  " 'Ad  n't  you 
better  take  it  out  at  once.  Josh  ? " 

"Yes,  I  'm  goin',*'  Josh  replied,  turning 
the  watch  in  his  hand.  "  It 's  a  good  'un — ■ 
a  topper." 

"You — you  won't  let  Weech  *ave  it, 
will  ye,  Josh  ?  'E —  'e  never  gives  much." 
37 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

"  No  bloomin'  fear.  I  'm  goin'  up  'Ox- 
ton  wi'  this  'ere." 

Dicky  sobbed  his  way  down  the  stairs 
and  through  the  passage  to  the  back.  In 
the  yard  he  looked  for  Tommy  Rann  to 
sympathise,  but  Tommy  was  not ;  and 
Dicky  paused  in  his  grief  to  reflect 
that  perhaps,  indeed,  in  the  light  of  calm 
reason,  he  would  rather  cast  the  story  of 
the  watch  in  a  more  heroic  mould  for 
Tommy's  benefit  than  was  compatible 
with  tears  and  a  belted  back.  So  he 
turned  and  squeezed  through  a  hole  in 
the  broken  fence,  sobbing  again,  in  search 
of  the  friend  that  shared  his  inmost  sor- 
rows. 

The  belting  was  bad  —  very  bad.  There 
was  broken  skin  on  his  shins  where  the 
strap  had  curled  'round,  and  there  was  a 
little  sticky  blood  under  the  shirt  half  way 
up  his  back:  to  say  nothing  of  bruises. 
But  it  was  the  hopeless  injustice  of  things 
that  shook  him  to  the  soul.  Wholly  un- 
38 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

aided,  he  had  done,  with  neatness  and 
credit,  a  click  that  anybody  in  the  Jago 
would  have  been  proud  of.  Overjoyed, 
he  had  hastened  to  receive  the  commenda- 
tions of  his  father  and  mother,  and  to  place 
the  prize  in  their  hands,  freely  and  gener- 
ously, though  perhaps  with  some  hope  of 
hot  supper  by  way  of  celebration.  And 
his  reward  was  this.  Why  ?  He  could 
understand  nothing ;  could  but  feel  the 
wrong  that  broke  his  heart.  And  so, 
sobbing,  he  crawled  through  two  fences  to 
weep  on  the  shaggy  neck  of  Jerry  Gullen's 
canary. 

Jerry  Gullen's  canary  was  no  bird,  but 
a  donkey ;  employed  by  Jerry  Gullen  in 
his  occasional  intervals  of  sobriety  to  drag 
a  cranky  shallow,  sometimes  stored  with 
glass  bottles,  rags, and  hearthstone;  some- 
times with  firewood  manufactured  from  a 
convenient  hoarding,  or  from  the  joinery 
of  an  empty  house;  sometimes  with  empty 
sacks  covering  miscellaneous  property  sud- 
39 


\^ 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    J  A  GO 

denly  acquired  and  not  for  general  inspec- 
tion. His  vacations,  many  and  long, 
Jerry  Gullen's  canary  spent,  forgotten  and 
unfed,  in  Jerry  Gullen's  backyard:  gnaw- 
ing desperately  at  fences  and  harrowing 
the  neighborhood  with  his  brays.  Thus 
the  nickname,  facetiously  applied  by  Kiddo 
Cook  in  celebration  of  his  piteous  song, 
grew  into  use;  and  "Canary"  would  call 
the  creature's  attention  as  readily  as  a 
mouthful  of  imprecations. 

Jerry  Gullen*s  canary  was  gnawing, 
gnawing,  with  a  sound  as  of  a  crooked 
centre-bit.  Everywhere  about  the  foul 
yard,  ten  or  twelve  feet  square,  wood  was 
rounded  and  splintered  and  bitten  white, 
and,  as  the  donkey  turned  his  heavy  head, 
a  drip  of  blood  from  his  gums  made  a  disc 
on  the  stones.  A  twitch  of  the  ears  wel- 
comed Dicky,  grief-stricken  as  he  was ; 
for  it  was  commonly  thus  that  he  bethought 
him  of  solace  in  Jerry  Gullen's  backyard. 


40 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

And  so  Dicky,  his  arms  about  the  mangy 
neck,  told  the  tale  of  his  wrongs  till  con- 
solation came  in  composition  of  the  heroic 
narrative  designed  for  Tommy  Rann. 
"  O,  Canary,  it  is  a  blasted  shame  ! " 


U^ 


IV 

When. Dicky  Perrott  came  running  into 
Jago  Row  with  the  Bishop's  watch  in  his 
pocket,  another  boy  punched  a  fist  at  him, 
and  at  the  time  Dicky  was  at  a  loss  to 
guess  the  cause  —  unless  it  were  a  simple 
caprice — but  stayed  neither  to  enquire  nor 
to  retaliate.  The  fact  was  that  the  Ranns 
and  the  Learys  were  coming  out,  fighting 
was  in  the  air,  and  the  small  boy,  meeting 
another  a  trifle  smaller,  punched  on  general 
principles.  The  Ranns  and  the  Learys, 
ever  at  war  or  in  guarded  armistice,  were 
the  great  rival  families  —  the  Montagues 
and  the  Capulets — of  the  Old  Jago. 
The  Learys,  indeed,  scarce  pretended  to 
rivalry — rather  to  factious  opposition.  For 
the  Ranns  gloried  in  the  style  and  title  of 
the  "  Royal  Family."  and  dominated  the 
42 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

Jago  ;  but  there  were  mighty  fighters,  men 
and  women,  among  the  Learys,  and  when 
a  combat  arose  it  was  a  hard  one  and 
an  animated.  The  two  families  ramified 
throughout  the  Jago,  and  under  the  Rann 
standard,  whether  by  kin  or  by  custom, 
were  the  Gullens,  the  Fishers,  the  Spicers, 
and  the  Walshes ;  while  in  the  Leary  train 
came  Dawsons,  Greens,  and  Harnwells. 
So  that  near  all  the  Jago  was  wont  to  be 
on  one  side  or  the  other,  and  any  of  the 
Jago  which  was  not  was  apt  to  be  the 
worse  for  it,  for  the  Ranns  drubbed  all 
them  that  were  not  of  their  faction  in  the 
most  thorough  and  most  workmanlike  man- 
ner, and  the  Learys  held  by  the  same 
practice ;  so  that  neutrality  meant  double 
drubbing.  But  when  the  Ranns  and  Learys 
combined,  and  the  Old  Jago  issued  forth 
in  its  entire  might  against  Dove  Lane,  then 
the  battle  was  one  to  go  miles  to  see. 

This,    however,  was    but    a   Rann  and 
Leary  fight;  and  it  was  but  in  its  early  stages 
43 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

when  Dicky  Perrott,  emerging  from  Jerry 
Gullen's  back  yard,  made  for  Shoreditch 
High  Street  by  way  of  the  "  Posties  " — 
the  passage  with  posts  at  the  end  of  Old 
Jago  Street.  His  purpose  was  to  snatch  a 
handful  of  hay  from  some  passing  wagon, 
or  of  mixed  fodder  from  some  unguarded 
nosebag,  wherewith  to  reward  the  sympa- 
thy of  Jerry  Gullen's  canary.  But  by 
the  "  Posties,"  at  the  Edge  Lane  corner. 
Tommy  Rann,  capless  and  with  a  purple 
bump  on  his  forehead,  came  flying  into  his 
arms,  breathless,  exultant,  a  babbling  brag- 
gart. He  had  fought  Johnny  Leary  and 
Joe  Dawson,  he  said,  one  after  the  other, 
and  pretty  nigh  broke  Johnny  Leary*s 
blasted  neck;  and  Joe  Dawson's  big 
brother  was  after  him  now  with  a  bleed'n' 
shovel.  So  the  two  children  ran  on  to- 
gether and  sought  the  seclusion  of  their 
own  back  yard,  where  the  story  of  Tommy 
Rann's  prowess,  with  scowls  and  the 
pounding  of  imaginary  foes,  and  the  story 
44 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

of  the  Bishop's  watch,  with  suppressions 
and  improvements,  mingled  and  contended 
in  the  thickening  dusk;  and  Jerry  Gullen*s 
canary  went  forgotten  and  unrequited. 

That  night  fighting  was  sporadic  and  de- 
sultory in  the  Jago.  Bob  the  Bender  was 
reported  to  have  a  smashed  nose,  and  Sam 
Cash  had  his  head  bandaged  at  the  hospital. 
At  the  Bag  of  Nails  in  Edge  Lane,  Snob 
Spicer  was  knocked  out  of  knowledge  with 
a  quart  pot,  and  Cocko  Harnwell's  missis 
had  a  piece  bitten  off  of  one  ear.  As  the 
night  wore  on,  taunts  and  defiances  were 
bandied  from  window  to  door  and  from  door 
to  window,  between  those  who  intended  to 
begin  fighting  to-morrow;  and  shouts  from 
divers  corners  gave  notice  of  isolated  scuf- 
fles. Once  a  succession  of  piercing  screams 
seemed  to  betoken  that  Sally  Green  had  be- 
gun. There  was  a  note  in  the  screams  of 
Sally  Green's  opposites  which  the  Jago  had 
learned  to  recognize.  Sally  Green,  though 
of  the  weaker  faction,  was  the  female  cham- 
45 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

pion  of  the  Old  Jagoian  eminence  won 
and  kept  by  fighting  tactics  peculiar  to  her- 
self. For  it  was  her  way,  reserving  teeth 
and  nails,  to  wrestle  closely  with  her  antag- 
onist, throw  her  by  a  dexterous  twist  on 
her  face,  and  fall  on  her,  instantly  seizing 
the  victim's  nape  in  her  teeth,  gnawing  and 
worrying.  The  sufferer's  screams  were 
audible  afar,  and  beyond  their  invariable 
eccentricity  of  quality  —  a  quality  vaguely 
suggestive  of  dire  surprise  —  they  had  a 
mechanical  persistence,  a  pumplike  regu- 
larity, that  distinguished  them,  in  the  accus- 
tomed ear,  from  other  screams. 

Josh  Perrott  had  not  been  home  all  the 
evening  ;  probably  the  Bishop's  watch  was 
in  course  of  transmutation  into  beer. 
Dicky,  stiff  and  domestically  inclined, 
nursed  Looey  and  listened  to  the  noises 
without  till  he  fell  asleep,  in  hopeful  antici- 
pation of  the  morrow.  For  Tommy  Rann 
had  promised  him  half  of  a  broken  iron 
railing  wherewith  to  fight  the  Learys. 
46 


Sleep  in  the  Jago  was  at  best  a  thing  of 
intermission,  for  reasons  —  reasons  of  mul- 
titude—  already  denoted ;  nevertheless, 
Dicky  slept  well  enough  to  be  unconscious 
of  his  father's  home-coming.  In  the  morn- 
ing, however,  there  lay  Josh  Perrott,  snor- 
ing thunderously  on  the  floor,  pie-bald 
with  road-dust.  This  was  not  a  morning 
whereon  father  would  want  breakfast,  it 
was  plain  ;  he  would  wake  thirsty  and  sav- 
age. So  Dicky  made  sure  of  a  crust  from 
the  cupboard  and  betook  himself  in  search 
of  Tommy  Rann.  As  to  washing,  he  was 
never  especially  fond  of  it,  and  in  any  case 
there  were  fifty  excellent  excuses  for  neg- 
lect. The  only  water  was  that  from  the 
little  tap  in  the  back  yard.  The  little  tap 
47 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

was  usually  out  of  order  or  had  been 
stolen  bodily  by  a  tenant,  and  if  it  were 
not,  there  was  no  basin  there,  nor  any  soap, 
nor  towel ;  and  anything  savouring  of 
moderate  cleanliness  was  resented  in  the 
Jago  as  an  assumption  of  superiority. 

Fighting  began  early,  fast  and  furious. 
The  Ranns  got  together  soon,  and  hunted 
the  Learys  up  and  down,  and  attacked  them 
in  their  houses,  the  Learys*  chances  only 
coming  when  straggling  Ranns  were  cut 
ofF  from  the  main  body.  The  weapons  in 
use,  as  was  customary,  rose  in  effective- 
ness by  a  swiftly  ascending  scale.  The 
Learys,  assailed  with  sticks,  replied  with 
sticks,  torn  from  old  packing-cases,  with 
protruding  nails.  The  two  sides  bethought 
them  of  coshes  simultaneously,  and  such 
as  had  no  coshes  —  very  few  —  had  pokers 
and  iron  railings.  Ginger  Stagg,  at  bay  in 
his  passage,  laid  open  Pud  Palmer's  cheek 
with  a  chisel ;  and  knives  thus  happily 
legitimised,  with  the  least  possible  prelimi- 
48 


A   CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

nary  form,  everybody  was  free  to  lay  hold 
of  whatever  came  handy. 

In  Old  Jago  Street,  half-way  between 
Jago  Court  and  Edge  Lane,  stood  the 
Feathers,  the  grimiest  and  vilest  of  the 
four  public-houses  in  the  Jago.  Into  the 
Feathers  some  dozen  Learys  were  driven, 
and  for  a  while  they  held  the  inner  bar 
and  the  tap-room  against  the  Ranns,  who 
swarmed  after  them,  chairs,  bottles  and 
pewter  pots  flying  thick,  while  Mother 
Gapp,  the  landlady,  hung  hysterical  on 
the  beer  pulls  in  the  bar,  supplicating  and 
blubbering  aloud.  Then  a  partition  came 
down  with  a  crash,  bringing  shelves  and 
many  glasses  with  it,  and  the  Ranns 
•ushed  over  the  ruin,  beating  the  Learys 
down,  jumping  on  them,  heaving  them 
through  the  back  windows.  Having  thus 
cleared  the  house  of  the  intruding  enemy, 
the  Ranns  demanded  recompense  of  liquor, 
and  took  it,  dragging  handles  off  beer  en- 
gines, seizing  bottles,  breaking  into  the 
49 


A   CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

cellar  and  driving  in  bungs.  Nobody 
better  than  Mother  Gapp  could  quell  an 
ordinary  bar  riot,  even  to  knocking  a  man 
down  with  a  pot,  but  she  knew  better 
than  to  attempt  interference  now.  Noth- 
ing could  have  made  her  swoon  but  she 
sat  limp  and  helpless,  weeping  and  blas- 
pheming. 

The  Ranns  cleared  off,  every  man  with 
a  bottle  or  so,  and  scattered,  and  this  for 
awhile  was  their  undoing.  For  the  Learys 
rallied  and  hunted  the  Ranns  in  their  turn; 
a  crowd  of  eighty  or  a  hundred  sweeping 
the  Jago  from  Honey  Lane  to  Meakin 
Street.  Then  they  swung  back  through 
Edge  Lane  to  Old  Jago  Street  and  made 
for  Jerry  Gullen's — a  house  full  of  Ranns. 
Jerry  Gullen,  Bill  Rann  and  the  rest  took 
refuge  in  the  upper  floors  and  barricaded 
the  stairs.  Below,  the  Learys  broke  win- 
dows and  ravaged  the  rooms,  smashing 
whatsoever  of  furniture  was  to  be  found. 
Above,  Pip  Walsh,  who  affected  horticul- 
50 


I 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

tare  on  his  window-sill,  hurled  down  flower 
pots.  On  the  stairs,  Billy  Leary,  scaling 
the  barricade,  was  flung  from  top  to  bot- 
tom, and  had  to  be  carried  home.  And 
then  Pip  Walsh's  missis  scattered  the  be- 
siegers on  the  pavement  below  with  a  ket- 
tle-full of  boiling  water. 

There  was  a  sudden  sortie  of  Ranns 
from  Jago  Court,  but  it  profited  nothing : 
for  the  party  was  small,  and,  its  advent 
being  unexpected,  there  was  a  lack  of 
prompt  co-operation  from  the  house.  The 
Learys  held  the  field. 

Down  the  middle  of  Old  Jago  Street 
came  Sally  Green:  red-faced,  stripped  to 
the  waist,  dancing,  hoarse  and  triumphant. 
Nail-scores  wide  as  the  finger  striped  her 
back,  her  face,  and  her  throat,  and  she  had 
a  black  eye ;  but  in  one  great  hand  she 
dangled  a  long  bunch  of  clotted  hair,  as 
she  whooped  defiance  to  the  Jago.  It  was 
a  trophy  newly  rent  from  the  scalp  of 
Norah    Walsh,   champion    of  the    Rann 


A     CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

womankind,  who  had  crawled  away  to  hide 
her  blighted  head,  and  be  restored  with 
gin.  None  answered  Sally's  challenge, 
and,  staying  but  to  fling  a  brickbat  at  Pip 
Walsh's  window,  she  carried  her  dance 
and  her  trophy  into  Edge  Lane. 

The  scrimmage  on  Jerry  Gullen's  stairs 
was  thundering  anew,  and  parties  of  Learys 
were  making  for  other  houses  in  the  street, 
when  there  came  a  volley  of  yells  from 
Jago  Row,  heralding  a  scudding  mob  of 
Ranns.  The  defeated  sortie-party  from 
Jago  Court,  driven  back,  had  gained  New 
Jago  Street  by  way  of  the  house  passages 
behind  the  court  and  set  to  gathering  the 
scattered  faction.  Now  the  Ranns  came, 
drunk,  semi-drunk  and  otherwise,  and  the 
Learys,  leaving  Jerry  Gullen's,  rushed  to 
meet  them.  There  was  a  great  shock, 
hats  flew,  sticks  and  heads  made  a  wooden 
rattle,  and  instantly  the  two  mobs  were 
broken  into  an  uproarious  confusion  of 
tangled    groups,    howling    and    grappling. 

52 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

Here  a  man  crawled  into  a  passage  to 
nurse  a  broken  head;  there  a  knot  gathered 
to  kick  a  sprawling  foe.  So  the  fight 
thinned  out  and  spread,  resolving  into 
many  independent  combats  with  concerted 
rushes  of  less  and  less  frequency,  till  once 
again  all  through  the  Jago  each  fought  for 
his  own  hand.  Kiddo  Cook,  joker  always, 
ran  hilariously  through  the  streets,  brand- 
ishing a  long  roll  of  twisted  paper,  where- 
with he  smacked  the  heads  of  Learys  all 
and  sundry,  who  realised  too  late  that  the 
paper  was  twisted  round  a  lodging-house 
poker. 

Now,  of  the  few  neutral  Jagos,  most 
lay  low.  Josh  Perrott,  however,  hard  as 
nails  and  respected  for  it,  feared  neither 
Rann  nor  Leary,  and  leaving  a  little  money 
with  his  missis,  carried  his  morning  mouth 
in  search  of  beer.  Pigeony  Poll,  harlot 
and  outcast,  despised  for  that  she  neither 
fought  nor  kept  a  cosh-carrier,  like  a  re- 
spectable married  woman,  slunk  and 
53 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   J  AGO 

trembled  in  corners  and  yards  and  wept  at 
the  sight  of  bleeding  heads.  As  for  old 
Beveridge,  the  affair  so  grossly  excited  him 
that  he  neglected  business  (he  cadged  and 
wrote  begging  screeves)  and  stayed  in  the 
Jago;  where  he  strode  wildly  about  the 
streets,  lank  and  rusty,  stabbing  the  air 
with  a  carving  knife,  and  incoherently  de- 
fying "all  the  lot"  to  come  near  him. 
Nobody  did. 

Dicky  Perrott  and  Tommy  Rann  found  a 
snug  fastness  in  Jago  Row.  For  there  was 
a  fence  with  a  loose  board,  which,  pushed 
aside,  revealed  a  hole  where-through  a  very 
small  boy  might  squeeze ;  and  within 
were  stored  many  barrows  and  shallows, 
mostly  broken,  and  of  these  one,  tilted 
forward  and  bottom  up,  made  a  hut  or  den, 
screened  about  with  fence  and  barrows. 
Here  they  hid  while  the  Learys  swept  the 
Jago,  and  hence  they  issued  from  time  to 
time  to  pound  such  youngsters  of  the  ether 
side  as  might  come  in  sight.  The  bits  of 
54 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

iron  railing  made  imposing  weapons,  but 
were  a  trifle  too  big  and  heavy  for  rapid 
use  in  their  puny  hands.  Still,  Dicky 
managed  to  double  up  little  Billy  Leary 
with  a  timely  lunge  in  the  stomach,  and 
Tommy  Rann  made  Bobby  Harnwell's 
nose  bleed  very  satisfactorily.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  bump  on  Tommy  Rann's 
forehead  was  widened  by  the  visitation  of 
a  stick,  and  Dicky  Perrott  sustained  a  very 
hopeful  punch  in  the  eye,  which  he  cher- 
ished enthusiastically,  with  a  view  to  an 
honourable  blackness.  In  the  snuggery 
intervals  they  explained  their  prowess  one 
to  another,  and  Dicky  alluded  to  his  in- 
tention, when  he  was  a  man,  to  buy  a  very 
long  sword  wherewith  to  cutoff  the  Leary's 
heads ;  Tommy  Rann  inclining,  however, 
to  a  gun,  with  which  one  might  also  shoot 
birds. 

The  battle  flagged  a  little    toward  mid- 
day, but  waxed   lively  again   as   the  after- 
noon began.      It  was  then  that  Dicky  Per- 
55 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    J  A  GO 

rott,  venturing  some  way  from  the  retreat, 
found  himself  in  a  scrimmage,  and  a  man 
snatched  away  his  pieceof  iron  and  floored 
a  Leary  with  it.  Gratifying  as  was  the 
distinction  of  aiding  in  the  exploit,  Dicky 
mourned  the  loss  of  the  weapon,  almost 
unto  tears ;  and  Tommy  Rann  would 
not  go  turn  about  with  the  other,  but  kept 
it  wholly  for  himself:  so  Dicky  was  fain 
sorrowfully  to  hunt  for  a  mere  stick. 
Even  a  disengaged  stick  was  not  easy  to 
find  just  then.  So  Dicky,  emerging  from 
the  Jago,  tried  Meakin  Street,  where 
there  were  shops,  but  unsuccessfully  ;  and 
so  came  round  by  Luck  Row,  a  narrow 
way  from  Meakin  Street,  by  Walker's 
cook-shop,  up  through  the  Jago. 

Dicky's  mother,  left  with  the  baby, 
fastened  the  door  as  well  as  she  might, 
and  trembled.  Indeed  she  had  reason. 
The  time  of  Josh  Perrott's  return  was  a 
matter  of  doubt,  but  when  he  did  come  he 
56 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

would  want  something  to  eat ;  it  was  for 
that  he  had  left  the  money.  But  Dicky 
was  out  and  there  was  nothing  iu  the  cup- 
board. From  the  windows  she  saw  divers 
fights  in  Jago  Court;  and  a  man  lay  for 
near  two  hours  on  the  stones  with  a  cut 
on  his  temple.  As  for  herself,  she  was  no 
favorite  in  the  neighbourhood  at  anytime. 
For  one  thing,  her  husband  did  not  carry 
the  cosh.  Then  she  was  an  alien  who 
had  never  entirely  fallen  into  Jago  ways; 
she  had  soon  grown  sluttish  and  dirty,  but 
she  was  never  drunk,  she  never  quarrelled, 
she  did  not  gossip  freely.  Also  her  husband 
beat  her  but  rarely,  and  then  not  with  a 
chair  or  a  poker.  Justly  irritated  by  such 
superiorities  as  these,  the  women  of  the 
Jago  were  ill  disposed  to  brook  another ; 
which  was  that  Hannah  Perrott  had  been 
married  in  church.  For  these  reasons  she 
was  timid  at  the  most  peaceful  of  times, 
but  now,  with  Ranns  and  Learys  on  the 
war-path,  and  herself  obnoxious  to  both, 
57 


J\f 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

she  trembled.  She  wished  Dicky  would 
come  and  do  her  errand.  But  there  was 
no  sign  of  him,  and  mid-day  wore  into 
afternoon.  It  was  late  for  Josh  as  it  was, 
and  he  would  be  sure  to  come  home  irri- 
table—  it  was  his  way  when  a  bad  head 
from  overnight  struggled  with  morning 
beer.  If  he  found  nothing  to  eat  there 
would  be  trouble. 

At  length  she  resolved  to  go  herself. 
There  was  a  lull  in  the  outer  din,  and 
what  there  was  seemed  to  come  from  the 
further  parts  of  Honey  Lane  and  Jago 
Row.  She  would  slip  across  by  Luck 
Row  to  Meakin  Street,  and  be  back  in 
five  minutes.  She  took  up  little  Looey, 
went. 

As  Dicky,  stickless,  turned  into  Luck 
Row,  there  arose  a  loud  shriek  and  then 
another,  and  then,  in  a  changed  voice 
a  succession  of  long  screams,  with  a 
regular  breath-pause.  Sally  Green  again  ! 
58 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

He  ran,  turned  into  Old  Jago  Street,  and 
saw. 

Sprawled  on  her  face  in  the  vile  road- 
way lay  a  writhing  woman  and  screamed, 
while  squeezed  under  her  arm  was  a  baby 
with  mud  in  its  eyes  and  a  cut  cheek,  cry- 
ing weakly;  and  spread  over  all,  clutching 
her  prey  by  hair  and  wrist,  Sally  Green 
hung  on  the  nape  like  a  terrier,  jaws 
clenched,  head  shaking. 

Thus  Dicky  saw  it  in  a  flash,  and  in  an 
instant  he  had  fluno;  himself  on  Sally 
Green,  kicking,  striking,  biting  and  cry- 
ing, for  he  had  seen  his  mother  and 
Looey.  The  kicks  wasted  themselves 
among  the  woman's  petticoats  and  the 
blows  were  feeble,  but  the  sharp  teeth 
were  meeting  in  the  shoulder-flesh  when 
help  came. 

Norah    Walsh,   vanquished    champion, 

now   somewhat   recovered,  looked  from   a 

window,  saw  her  enemy   vulnerable,  and 

ran  out,  armed  with  a  bottle.      She  stopped 

59 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

at  the  kerb  to  knock  the  bottom  off  the 
bottle,  and  then  with  an  exultant  shout 
seized  Sally  Green  by  the  hair  and  stabbed 
her  about  the  face  with  the  jagged  points. 
Blinded  with  blood,  Sally  released  her  hold 
on  Mrs.  Perrott  and  rolled  on  her  back, 
struggling  fiercely ;  but  to  no  end,  for 
Norah  Walsh,  kneeling  on  her  breast, 
stabbed  and  stabbed  again,  till  pieces  of 
the  bottle  broke  away.  Sally's  yells  and 
plunges  ceased,  and  a  man  pulled  Norah 
off.  On  him  she  turned,  and  he  was  fain 
to  run,  while  certain  Learys  found  a  truck 
which  might  carry  Sally  to  the  hospital. 

Hannah  Perrott  was  gone  indoors,  hys- 
terical and  helpless.  She  had  scarce  crossed 
the  street  on  her  errand  when  she  had  met 
Sally  Green,  in  quest  of  female  Ranns. 
Mrs.  Perrott  was  not  a  Rann,  but  she 
was  not  a  Leary,  so  it  came  to  the  same 
thing.  Moreover,  there  was  her  general 
obnoxiousness.  She  had  tried  to  run, 
but  that  was  useless ;  and  now,  sobbing 
60 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

and  bleeding,  she  was  merely  conscious  of 
being  gently  led — almost  carried — indoors 
and  upstairs.  She  was  laid  back  on  the 
bed,  and  somebody  loosened  her  hair  and 
wiped  her  face  and  neck,  giving  her  hoarse, 
comforting  words.  Then  she  saw  the  face 
—  scared  though  coarse  and  pitted,  and  red 
about  the  eyes  —  that  bent  over  her.  It  -P^ 
was  Pigeony  Poll's. 

Dicky  had  followed  her  in,  no  longer 
the  hero  of  the  Jago  Row  retreat,  but  his 
face  tearful  and  distorted,  carrying  the 
baby  in  his  arms  and  wiping  the  mud  from 
her  eyes.  Now  he  sat  on  the  little  box 
and  continued  his  ministrations,  with  fear 
in  his  looks,  as  he  glanced  at  his  mother 
on  the  bed. 

Without,  the  fight  rallied  once  more. 
The  Learys  ran  to  avenge  Sally  Green, 
and  the  Ranns  to  meet  them  with  a  will. 
Down  by  the  bag  of  Nails  a  party  of 
Ranns  were  driven  between  the  posts  and 
6i 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

through  the  gut  into  Shoreditch  High 
Street,  where  a  stand  was  made  until  Fag 
Dawson  dropped  with  a  shoemaker's  knife 
sticking  under  his  armpit.  Then  the 
Ranns  left,  with  most  of  the  Learys  after 
them,  and  Fag  Dawson  was  carried  to  a 
chemist's  by  the  police,  never  to  floor  a 
Rann  again.  For  he  was  chived  in  the 
left  lung. 

Thus  the  fight  ended.  For  a  faction 
fight  in  the  Jago,  with  a  few  broken  heads 
and  ribs  and  an  odd  knife  wound  here  and 
there  —  even  with  a  death  in  the  hospital 
from  kicks  or  what  not —  was  all  very  well; 
but  when  it  came  to  homicide  in  the  open 
High  Street  the  police  drew  the  line  and 
entered  the  Jago  in  force.  Ordinarily,  a 
peep  between  the  "  Posties  "  was  all  the 
supervision  the  Jago  had,  although  three 
policemen  had  been  seen  to  walk  the  length 
of  Old  Jago  Street  together ;  and  there 
were  raids  in  force  for  special  captures. 
62 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

There  was  a  raid  in  force  now,  and  the  tur- 
moil ceased.  Nothing  would  have  pleased 
both  Ranns  and  Learys  better  than  to 
knock  over  two  or  three  policemen,  for 
kicking  practice;  but  there  were  too  many 
for  the  sport,  and  for  hours  they  patrolled 
the  Jago's  closest  passages.  Of  course 
nobody  knew  who  chived  Fag  Dawson. 
No  enquiring  policeman  ever  found  any- 
body in  the  Old  Jago  who  knew  anything, 
even  to  the  harm  of  his  bitterest  foe.  It 
was  the  sole  commandment  that  ran  there: 
"  Thou  shalt  not  nark." 

That  night  it  was  known  that  there 
would  be  a  fight  between  Josh  Perrott  and 
Billy  Leary,  once  the  latter  grew  well. 
For  Josh  Perrott  came  home,  saw  his 
wife,  and  turned  Rann  on  the  spot.  But 
for  the  police  in  the  Jago  that  night, 
there  would  have  been  many  a  sore  head, 
if  no  worse,  among  the  Learys  by  visita- 
tion of  Josh  Perrott.  Sally  Green's  hus- 
band had  fled  years  ago,  and  Billy  Leary, 
63 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   J  AGO 

her  brother,  was  the  obvious  mark  for 
Josh's  vengeance.  He  was  near  as  emi- 
nent a  fighter  among  the  men  as  his  sister 
among  the  women,  and  a  charming  scrap 
was  anticipated.  It  would  come  ofF,  of 
course,  in  Jago  Court  one  Sunday  morn- 
ing, as  all  fights  of  distinction  did,  and 
perhaps  somebody  in  the  High  Mob  would 
put  up  stakes. 


VI 

In  the  morning  the  police  still  held  the 
Jago.  Their  presence  embarrassed  many, 
but  none  more  than  Dicky  Perrott,  who 
would  always  take  a  turning,  or  walk  the 
other  way,at  sight  of  a  policeman.  Dicky 
got  out  of  Old  Jago  Street  early,  and  be- 
took him  to  Meakin  Street,  where  there 
were  chandler's  shops  with  sugar  in  their 
windows,  and  cook-shops  with  pudding. 
He  designed  working  through  by  these  to 
Shoreditch  High  Street,  there  to  crown  his 
solace  by  contemplation  of  the  cake-shop. 
But,  as  he  neared  Weech's  cofFee-shop, 
scarce  half  through  Meakin  Street,  there 
stood  Weech  himself  at  the  door,  grinning 
and  nodding  affably,  and  beckoning  him. 
He  was  a  pleasant  man,  this  Mr.  Aaron 
Weech,  who  sang  hymns  aloud  in  the 
65 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

back-parlour  and  hummed  the  tunes  in  the 
shop.  A  prosperous,  white-aproned,  whis- 
kered, half-bald,  smirking  tradesman,  who 
bent  and  spoke  amiably  to  boys,  looking 
sharply  in  their  eyes,  but  talked  to  a  man 
mostly  with  his  gaze  on  the  man's  waist- 
coat. 

Indeed,  there  seemed  to  be  something 
about  Mr.  Aaron  Weech  especially  at- 
tractive to  youth.  Nearly  all  his  custom- 
ers were  boys  and  girls,  though  not  boys 
and  girls  who  looked  likely  to  pay  a 
great  deal  in  the  way  of  refreshment,  much 
as  they  took.  But  he  was  ever  indulgent 
and  at  all  times  accessible  to  his  young 
clients.  Even  on  Sunday  (though,  of 
course,  his  shutters  were  kept  rigidly  up  on 
the  Day  of  Rest)  a  particular  tap  would 
bring  him  hot-foot  to  the  door ;  not  to  sell 
coffee,  for  Mr.  Weech  was  no  Sabbath- 
breaker. 

Now  he  stood  at  his  door,  and  invited 
Dicky  with  nods  and  becks.  Dicky,  all 
66 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

wondering,  and  alert  to  dodge  in  case  the 
thing  were  a  mere  device  to  bring  him 
within  striking  distance,  went. 

"W'y,  Dicky  Perrott,"  quoth  Mr. 
Weech  in  a  tone  of  genial  surprise,  "  I 
b'lieve  you  could  drink  a  cup  o*  cawfy  ! " 

Dicky,  wondering  how  Mr.  Weech  had 
learnt  his  name,  believed  he  could. 

"An'  eat  a  slice  o*  cake,  too,  I  '11  be 
bound,"  Mr.  Weech  added. 

Dicky's  glance  leapt.  Yes,  he  could 
eat  a  slice  of  cake,  too. 

"Ah,  I  knew  it,"  said  Mr.  Weech,  tri- 
umphantly ;  "  I  can  always  tell."  He 
rubbed  Dicky's  cap  about  his  head  and 
drew  him  into  the  shop,  at  this  hour  bare 
of  customers.  At  the  innermost  compart- 
ment they  stopped,  and  Mr.  Weech,  with 
a  gentle  pressure  on  the  shoulders,  seated 
Dicky  at  the  table. 

He  brought  the  cofFee,  and  not  a  single 
slice  of  cake,  but  two.  True,  it  was  not 
cake  of  Elevation  Mission  quality,  nor  was 
67 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    J  AGO 

it  so  good  as  that  shown  at  the  shop  in 
High  Street;  it  was  of  a  browner,  dumpier, 
harder  nature,  and  the  currants  were  gritty 
and  few.  But  cake  it  was,  and  to  con- 
sider it  critically  were  unworthy.  Dicky 
bolted  it  with  less  comfort  than  he  might, 
for  Mr.  Weech  watched  him  keenly  across 
the  table.  And,  indeed,  from  some  queer 
cause,  he  felt  an  odd  impulse  to  cry.  It 
was  the  first  time  that  he  had  ever  been 
given  anything,  kindly  and  ungrudgingly. 

He  swallowed  the  last  crumb,  washed  it 
down  with  the  dregs  of  his  cup,  and  looked 
sheepishly  across  at  Mr.  Weech. 

"Goes  down  awright,  do  n't  it?"  that 
benefactor  remarked.  "Ah,  I  like  to  see 
you  enjoyin*  of  yerself.  I  'm  very  fond  o' 
you  young  'uns,  'specially  clever  'uns  like 
you." 

Dicky  had  never  been  called  clever  be- 
fore, so  far  as  he  could  recollect,  and  he 
wondered  at  it  now.  Mr.  Weech,  leaning 
back,  contemplated  him  smilingly  for  some 
68 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

seconds,  and  then  proceeded.  "  Yus,"  he 
said,  "  you  're  the  sort  o'  boy  as  can  'ave 
cawfy  an'  cake  w'enever  you  want  it,  you 
are." 

Dicky  wondered  more,  and  his  face  said 
as  much.  "  You  know,"  Mr.  Weech  pur- 
sued, winking  amain,  grinning  and  nodding, 
"  that  was  a  fine  watch  you  found  the  other 
day.     Y'  ought  to  'a'  brought  it  to  me." 

Dicky  was  alarmed.  How  did  Mr. 
Weech  learn  about  the  watch  ?  Perhaps 
he  was  a  friend  of  the  funny  old  man  who 
lost  it.  Dicky  half  rose,  but  his  affable 
patron  leaned  across  and  pushed  him  back 
on  the  seat.  "  You  need  n't  be  frightened," 
he  said.  "  I  ain't  goin'  to  say  nothink  to 
nobody.  But  I  know  all  about  it,  mind, 
an'  I  could  if  I  liked.  You  found  the 
watch,  an'  it  was  a  red  'un,  on  a  bit  o'  rib- 
bin.  Well,  then  you  went  an'  took  it  'ome, 
like  a  little  fool.  Wot  does  yer  father  do? 
W'y,  'e  ups  an'  lathers  you  with  'is  belt, 
an'  'e  keeps  the  watch  'isself.  That 's  all 
69 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

you  git  for  yer  pains.  See  —  I  know  all 
about  it."  And  Mr.  Weech  gazed  on 
Dicky  Perrott  with  a  fixed  grin. 

"  Oo  toldjer  ?"  Dicky  managed  to  ask 
at  last. 

"  Ah  !"  —  this  with  a  great  emphasis 
and  a  tapping  of  the  forefinger  beside  the 
nose — "I  don't  want  much  tellin*:  it 
ain't  much  as  goes  on  'ereabout  I  do  n't 
know  of.  Never  mind  'ow.  P'raps  I 
got  a  little  bird  as  w'ispers  —  p'raps  I  do 
it  some  other  way.  Any'ow  I  know.  It 
ain't  no  good  any  boy  tryin'  to  do  some- 
think  unbeknownst  to  me,  mind  jer." 

Mr.  Weech's  head  lay  aside,  his  grin 
widened,  his  glance  was  sidelong,  his  fore- 
finger pointed  from  his  temple  over 
Dicky's  head,  and  altogether  he  looked  so 
very  knowing  that  Dicky  shufiled  in  his 
seat.  By  what  mysterious  means  was 
this  new  found  friend  so  well  informed  ? 
The  doubt  troubled  him,  for  Dicky  knew 
nothing  of  Mr.  Aaron  Weech's  con- 
70 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

versation  an  hour  before  with  Tommy 
.,BLann. 

"  But  it 's  awright,  bless  yer,"  Mr. 
Weech  went  on  presently.  "  Nobody's 
none  the  wuss  for  me  knowin'  about  'em. 
Well,  we  was  a-talkin'  about 
the  watch,  was  n't  we  ?  All  you  got, 
after  sich  a  lot  o'  trouble,  was  a  woppin' 
with  a  belt.  That  was  too  bad."  Mr. 
Weech's  voice  was  piteous  and  sym- 
pathetic. "  After  you  a-findin'  sich  a 
nice  watch — a  red  'un  an*  all  —  you  gits 
nothink  for  yerself  but  a  beltin'.  Never 
mind;  you'll  do  better  next  time  —  I'll 
take  care  o'  that.  I  do  n  't  like  to  see  a 
clever  boy  put  upon.  You  go  an'  find  an- 
other, or  somethink  else  —  any  think  good 
—  and  then  you  bring  it  'ere." 

Mr.  Weech's  friendly  sympathy  extin- 
guished Dicky's  doubt.  "  I  did  n  't  find 
it,"  he  said,  shy  but  proud.  "  It  was  a 
click  —  I  sneaked  it." 

"  Eh  ?"  ejaculated  Mr.  Weech,  a  sud- 
71 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    J  AGO 

den  picture  of  blank  incomprehension. 
"  Eh  ?  What  ?  Click  ?  —  wot's  a  click  ? 
Sneaked  ?  Wot's  that  ?  I  dunno  nothink 
about  no  talk  o'  that  sort,  an  I  do  n't  want 
to.  It's  my  belief  it  means  somethink 
wrong — but  I  dunno,  an'  I  do  n't  want  to. 
'Ear  that .?  Eh  .?  Do  n't  let  me  *ave  no 
more  o'  that,  or  you  'd  better  not  come 
near  me  agin.  If  you  find  somethink  — 
awright,  you  come  to  me  and  I  '11  give 
ye  somethink  for  it,  if  it 's  any  good.  It 
ain't  no  business  of  anybody's  where  you 
find  it,  o'  course,  an'  I  do  n't  want  to 
know.  But  clicks  and  sneaks — them  's 
Greek  to  me,  an'  I  do  n't  want  to  learn 
'em.  Unnerstand  that  ?  Nice  talk  to 
respectable  people,  with  yer  clicks  an' 
sneaks !" 

Dicky  blushed  a  little,  and  felt  very 
guilty  without  in  the  least  understanding 
the  offense.  But  Mr.  Weech's  virtuous 
indignation  subsided  as  quickly  as  it  had 
arisen,  and  he  went  on  as  amiably  as  ever. 
7- 


A  CHILD    OF    THE    J  A  GO 

"  When  you  find  anythink,"  he  said, 
"  jist  like  you  found  that  watch,  do  n*t  tell 
nobody  an*  don't  let  nobody  see  it.  Bring 
it  'ere  quiet,  when  there  ain't  any  p'lice- 
man  in  the  street,  an'  come  right  through 
to  the  back  o'  the  shop,  an'  say,  '  I  come 
to  clean  the  knives.'  Unnerstand?  'I 
come  to  clean  the  knives.'  There  ain't  no 
knives  to  clean  —  it 's  on'y  a  way  o'  tellin' 
me  you  got  somethink  without  other  peo- 
ple knowin.'  An'  then  I  '11  give  you 
somethink  for  it  —  money  p'raps,  some- 
times, or  p'raps  cake  or  wot  not.  Do  n't 
forget.  '  I  come  to  clean  the  knives.' 
See  ?  " 

Yes,  Dicky  understood  perfectly  j  and 
Dicky  saw  a  new  world  of  dazzling  de- 
lights. Cake  —  limitless  cake,  coffee,  and 
the  like,  whenever  he  might  feel  moved 
thereunto;  but  more  than  all,  money  — 
actual  money ;  good  broad  pennies,  per- 
haps whole  shillings  —  perhaps  even  more 
still ;  money  to  buy  bullock's  liver  for 
73 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

dinner,  or  tripe,  or  what  you  fancied ; 
saveloys,  baked  potatoes  from  the  can  on 
cold  nights,  a  little  cart  to  wheel  Looey  in, 
a  boat  from  a  toy-shop  with  sails. 

"There  's  no  end  o'  things  to  be  found, 
all  over  the  place,  an'  a  sharp  boy  like  you 
can  find  'em  every  day.  If  you  do  n't  find 
'em,  someone  else  will ;  there's  plenty  on 
'em  about,  on  the  look-out,  an'  you  got 
jist  as  much  right  as  them.  On'y  mind!" 
—  Mr.  Weech  was  suddenly  stern  and 
serious,  and  his  forefinger  was  raised  im- 
pressively — "  You  know  you  can  't  do  any- 
think  without  I  know,  an'  if  you  say  a 
word  —  if  you  say  a  word,"  his  fist  came 
on  the  table  with  a  bang,  "somethink  '11 
'appen  to  you,  somethink  bad." 

Mr.  Weech  rose,  and  was  pleasant  again 
though  businesslike.  "  Now  you  just  go 
an'  find  somethink,"  he  said.  "Look 
sharp  about  it,  an'  do  n't  go  an'  git  in 
trouble.  The  cawfy  's  a  penny  an'  the 
cake  's  a  penny  —  ought  prop'ly  to  be  two- 
74 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

pence,  but  say  a  penny  this  time  —  that's 
twopence  you  owe  me,  an'  you  better  bring 
me  somethink  an'  pay  it  off  quick ;  so  go 
along." 

This  was^an^unforeseen  tag  to  the  en- 
tertainment. For  the  first  time  in  his  life 
Dicky  was  in  debt.  It  was  a  little  disap- 
pointing to  find  the  coffee  and  cake  no  gift 
after  all,  though,  indeed,  it  now  seemed 
foolish  to  have  supposed  they  were ;  for  in 
Dicky  Perrott's  world  people  did  not  give 
things  away  —  that  were  the  act  of  a  fool. 
Thus  Dicky,  with  his  hands  in  his  broken 
pockets,  and  thought  in  his  small  face, 
whereon  still  stood  the  muddy  streaks  of 
yesterday's  tears,  trudged  out  of  Mr. 
Aaron  Weech's  shop-door,  and  along 
Meakin  Street. 

Now  he  was  beginning  the  world  seri- 
ously, and  must  face  the  fact.  Truly,  the 
world  had  been  serious  enough  for  him 
hitherto,  but  that  he  knew  not.  Now 
he  was  of  an  age  when  most  boys  were 
75 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

thieving  for  themselves,  and  he  owed 
~~^money  like  a  man.  True  it  was,  as  Mr. 
Weech  had  said,  that  everybody  —  the 
whole  Jago — was  on  the  lookout  for 
himself.  Plainly,  he  must  take  his  share, 
lest  it  fall  to  others.  As  to  the  old 
gentleman's  watch,  he  had  but  been  before- 
hand. Through  foolish  ingenuousness  he 
had  lost  it,  and  his  father  had  got  it,  who 
could  so  much  more  easily  steal  one  for 
himself;  for  he  was  a  strong  man,  and  had 
but  to  knock  over  another  man  at  any 
night-time.  Nobody  should  hear  of  future 
clicks  but  Mr.  Weech ;  each  for  himself. 
Come,  he  must  open  his  eyes. 


VII 

There  was  no  chance  all  along  Meakin 
Street.  The  chandlers  and  the  keepers 
of  cookshops  knew  their  neighbourhood 
too  well  to  leave  articles  unguarded.  Soon 
Dickey  reached  Shoreditch  High  Street. 
There  things  were  a  little  more  favourable. 
There  were  shops,  as  he  well  remembered, 
where  goods  were  sometimes  exhibited  at 
the  doors  and  outside  the  windows ;  but 
to-day  there  seemed  to  be  no  chance  of 
the  sort.  As  for  the  people,  he  was  too 
short  to  try  pockets,  and,  indeed,  the  High 
Street  rarely  gave  passage  to  a  more  un- 
promising lot.  Moreover,  from  robbery 
from  the  person  he  knew  he  must  abstain, 
except  for  such  uncommon  opportunities 
as  that  of  the  Bishop's  watch,  for  some 
years  yet. 

77 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

He  hung  about  the  doors  and  windows 
of  shop  after  shop,  hoping  for  a  temporary 
absence  of  the  shopkeeper  which  might 
leave  something  snatchable,  but  he  hoped 
in  vain.  From  most  shops  he  was  driven 
away,  for  the  Shoreditch  trader  is  not  slow 
to  judge  the  purpose  of  a  loitering  boy.  So 
he  passed  nearly  two  hours ;  when  at  last 
he  saw  his  chance.  It  came  in  an  advan- 
tageous part  of  High  Street,  not  far  from 
the  "  Posties,"  though  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  way.  A  nurse-girl  had  left  a  per- 
ambulator at  a  shop  door  while  she  bought 
inside,  and  on  the  perambulator  lay  loose 
a  little  skin  rug,  from  which  a  little  fat 
leg  stuck  and  waved  aloft.  Dicky  set 
his  back  to  the  shop  and  sidled  to  within 
reach  of  the  perambulator.  But  it  chanced 
that  at  this  moment  the  nurse-girl  stepped 
to  the  door,  and  she  made  a  snatch  at  his 
arm  as  he  lifted  the  rug.  This  he  dropped 
at  once,  and  was  swinging  leisurely  away 
(for  he  despised  the  chase  of  any  nurse- 
78 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

girl)  when  a  man  took  him  suddenly  by 
the  shoulder.  Quick  as  a  weasel,  Dicky 
ducked  under  the  man's  arm,  pulled  his 
shoulder  clear,  dropped  forward  and  rested 
an  instant  on  the  tips  of  his  fingers  to 
avoid  the  catch  of  the  other  hand,  and 
shot  out  into  the  road.  The  man  tried  to 
follow,  but  Dicky  ran  under  the  belly  of  a 
standing  horse,  under  the  head  of  another 
that  trotted,  across  the  fore-platform  of  a 
tram-car  —  behind  the  driver's  back — and 
so  over  to  the  "  Posties." 

He  slouched  into  the  Jago  disappointed. 
As  he  crossed  Edge  Lane,  he  was  sur- 
prised to  perceive  a  stranger — a  tofF,  in- 
deed—  who  walked  slowly  along,  looking 
up,  right  and  left,  at  the  grimy  habitations 
about  him.  He  wore  a  tall  hat,  and  his 
clothes  were  black,  and  of  a  pattern  that 
Dicky  remembered  to  have  seen  at  the 
Elevation  Mission  ;  they  were,  in  fact,  the 
clothes  of  a  clergyman.  For  himself,  he 
was  tall  and  soundly  built,  with  a  certain 
79 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

square  muscularity  of  face,  and  of  age 
about  thirty-five.  He  had  ventured  into 
the  Jago  because  the  police  were  in  pos- 
session, Dicky  thought ;  and  wondered  in 
what  plight  he  would  leave  had  he  come 
at  another  time.  But  losing  view  of  the 
stranger  and  making  his  way  along  Old 
Jago  Street,  Dicky  perceived  that  indeed 
the  police  were  gone,  and  that  the  Jago 
was  free. 

He  climbed  the  broken  stairs  and  pushed 
into  the  first  floor  back,  hopeful,  though 
more  doubtful,  of  dinner.  There  was 
none.  His  mother,  tied  about  the  neck 
with  rags,  lay  across  the  bed,  nursing  the 
damage  of  yesterday,  and  commiserating 
herself.  A  yard  from  her  lay  Looey,  sick 
and  ailing  in  a  new  way,  but  disregarded. 
Dicky  moved  to  lift  her  but  at  that  she 
cried  the  more,  and  he  was  fain  to  let  her 
lie.  She  rolled  her  head  from  side  to  side 
and  raised  her  thin  little  hand  vaguely  to- 
ward it,  with  feverishly-working  fingers. 
80 


A    CHILD   OF    THE  JAGO 

Dicky  felt  her  head  and  she  screamed 
again.  There  was  a  lump  at  the  side, 
a  hard  sharp  lump  j  got  from  the  stones 
of  the  roadway  yesterday.  And  there 
was  a  curious  quality,  a  rather  fearful 
quality,  in  the  little  wails  :  uneasily  sug- 
gestive of  the  screams  of  Sally  Green's 
victims. 

Father  was  out,  prowling.  There  was 
nothing  eatable  in  the  cupboard,  and  there 
seemed  nothing  at  home  worth  staying  for. 
He  took  another  look  at  Looey,  but  re- 
frained from  touching  her,  and  went  out. 

The  opposite  door  on  the  landing  was 
wide  open,  and  Dicky  could  hear  nobody 
in  the  room.  He  had  never  seen  this 
door  open  before,  and  now  he  ventured  on 
a  peep ;  for  the  tenants  of  the  front  room 
were  strangers,  late  arrivals,  and  interlop- 
ers. Their  name  was  Roper.  Roper  was 
a  pale  cabinet-maker,  fallen  on  evil  times 
and  out  of  work.  He  had  a  pale  wife, 
disliked  because  of  her  neatly-kept  clothes, 


A   CHILD   OF   THE  JAGO 

her  exceeding  use  of  soap  and  water,  her 
aloofness  from  gossip.  She  had  a  deadly 
pale  baby ;  also  there  was  the  pale  hunch- 
backed boy  of  near  Dicky's  age.  Col- 
lectively, the  Ropers  were  disliked  as 
strangers,  because  they  furnished  their 
own  room,  in  an  obnoxiously  complete 
sjtyle ;  because  Roper  did  not  ddak,  nor 
brawl,  nor  beat  his  wife,  nor  do  anything 
all  day  but  look  for  work ;  because  all 
these  things  were  a  matter  of  scanda- 
lous arrogance,  impudently  subversive  of 
Jago  custom  and  precedent.  Mrs.  Per- 
rott  was  bad  enough,  but  such   people   as 

these 

Dicky  had  never  before  seen  quite  such 
a  room  as  this.  Everything  was  so  clean; 
the  floor,  the  windows,  the  bedclothes. 
Also  there  was  a  strip  of  old  carpet  on 
the  floor.  There  were  two  perfectly 
sound  chairs,  and  two  pink  glass  vases 
on  the  mantelpiece ;  and  a  clock.  No- 
body was  in  the  room,   and    Dicky   took  a 

«3 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

step  farther.  The  clock  attracted  him 
again.  It  was  a  small,  cheap,  nickel- 
plated  cylindrical  thing,  of  American 
make,  and  it  reminded  him  at  once  of  the 
Bishop's  watch.  It  was  not  gold,  cer- 
tainly, but  it  was  a  good  deal  bigger,  and 
it  could  go — it  was  going.  Dicky  stepped 
back  and  glanced  at  the  landing ;  then  he 
darted  into  the  room,  whipped  the  clock 
under  the  breast  of  the  big  jacket  and 
went  for  the  stairs. 

Half-way  down  he  met  the  pale  hunch- 
back ascending.  Left  at  home  alone,  he 
had  been  standing  in  the  front  doorway. 
He  saw  Dicky's  haste ;  saw  also  the  sus- 
picious bulge  under  his  jacket,  and  straight- 
way seized  Dicky's  arm. 

"  Where  'a'  you  bin  ? "  he  asked  sharply. 
"  Bin  in  our  room  ?    What  you  got  there  ? " 

''  Nothin'  o'  yours,  'ump.  Git  out  o* 
that !  "  Dicky  pushed  him  aside.  "  If 
ye  do  n't  le'  go,  I  '11  corpse  ye  !  " 

But  one  arm  and  hand  was  occupied 
83 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    J  A  GO 

with  the  bulge,  and  the  other  was  for  the 
moment  unequal  to  the  work  of  driving  ofF 
the  assailant.  The  two  children  wrangled 
and  struggled  downstairs,  through  the  door- 
way and  into  the  street;  the  hunchback,  weak 
but  infuriate,  buffeting,  biting  and  whim- 
pering; Dicky  infuriate  too,  but  alert  for  a 
chance  to  break  away  and  run.  So  they 
scrambled  together  across  the  street,  Dicky 
dragging  away  from  the  house  at  every 
step ;  and  just  at  the  corner  of  Luck  Row, 
getting  his  fore-arm  across  the  other's  face, 
he  back-heeled  him,  and  the  little  hunch- 
back fell  heavily,  and  lay  breathless  and 
sobbing,  while  Dicky  scampered  through 
Luck  Row  and  round  the  corner  into 
Meakin  Street. 

Mr.  Weech  was  busier  now,  for  there 
were  customers.  But  Dicky  and  his 
bulge  he  saw  ere  they  were  well  over  the 
threshold. 

"Ah,  yus,  Dicky,"  he  said,  coming  to 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

meet  him.     "  I  was  expectin'  you.     Come 
in — 

In  the  sive-e-et  hy  an*  by 

JVe  shall  meet  on  that  beautiful  shaw-er  ! 
Come  in  'ere." 

Still  humming  his  hymn,  Mr.  Weech 
led  Dicky  into  the  shop  parlour.  Here 
Dicky  produced  the  clock,  which  Mr. 
Weech  surveyed  with  no  great  approval. 

"  You  '11  'ave  to  try  an*  do  better  than 
this,  you  know,"  he  said.  "  But  any  'ow 
*ere  it  is,  sich  as  it  is.  It  about  clears  auf 
wot  you  owe,  I  reckon.  Want  some  din- 
ner ?  " 

This  was  a  fact,  and  Dicky  admitted  it. 

"Awright — 

In  the  swe-e-e-t  hy  an*  by  ^ — 
Come  out  an'   set  down.     I  '11  bring  you 
somethink  'ot." 

This  proved  to  be  a  very  salt  bloater,  a 
cup  of  the  usual  muddy  coffee,  tasting  of 
burnt  toast  and  a  bit  of  bread,  afterwards 


85 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

supplemented  by  a  slice  of  cake.  This  to 
Dicky  was  a  banquet.  Moreover,  there 
was  the  adult  dignity  of  taking  your  din- 
ner in  a  cofFee-shop;  which  Dicky  sup- 
ported indomitably  now  that  he  began  to 
feel  at  ease  in  Mr.  Weech's ;  leaning  back 
in  his  seat,  swinging  his  feet,  and  looking 
about  at  the  walls  with  the  grocers*  alma- 
nacks hanging  thereto,  and  the  Sunday 
School  Anniversary  bills  of  past  date,  gath- 
ered from  afar  to  signalise  the  elevated 
morals  of  the  establishment. 

"Done?"  queried  Mr.  Weech  in  his 
ear.  "  Awright,  don*t  *ang  about  'ere 
then.  Bloater's  a  penny,  bread  a  'a'peny, 
cawfy  a  penny,  cake  a  penny.  You  Ml 
owe  thrippence-'a'peny  now." 


VIII 

When  Dicky  Perrott  and  the  small 
hunchback  were  hauling  and  struggling 
across  the  street,  old  Fisher  came  down 
from  the  top-floor  back,  wherein  he  dwelt 
with  his  son  Bob,  Bob's  wife  and  two  sis- 
ters, and  five  children;  an  apartment  in  no 
way  so  clean  as  the  united  efforts  of  ten 
people  might  be  expected  to  have  made  it. 
Old  Fisher,  on  whose  grimy  face  the 
wrinkles  were  deposits  of  mud,  stopped  at 
the  open  door  on  the  first  floor,  and,  as 
Dicky  had  done,  took  a  peep.  Perplexed 
at  the  monstrous  absence  of  dirt,  and  en- 
couraged by  the  stillness.  Old  Fisher  also 
ventured  within.  Nobody  was  in  charge, 
and  Old  Fisher,  mentally  pricing  the  pink 
glass  vases  at  three-pence,  made  for  a 
87 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

small  chest  in  the  corner  of  the  room  and 
lifted  the  lid.  Within  lay  many  of  Roper's 
tools,  from  among  which  he  had  that 
morning  taken  such  as  he  might  want  on 
an  emergent  call  to  work,  to  carry  as  he 
tramped  Curtain  Road.  Clearly  these  were 
the  most  valuable  things  in  the  place,  and, 
slipping  a  few  small  articles  into  his  pock- 
ets, Old  Fisher  took  a  good  double  handful 
of  the  larger,  and  tramped  upstairs  with 
them.  Presently  he  returned  with  Bob's 
missus,  and  together  they  started  with 
more.  As  they  emerged,  however,  there 
on  the  landing  stood  the  little  hunchback, 
sobbing  and  smearing  his  face  with  his 
sleeve.  At  sight  of  this  new  pillage  he 
burst  into  sharp  wails,  standing  impotent 
on  the  landing,  his  streaming  eyes  follow- 
ing the  man  and  woman  ascending  before 
him.  Old  Fisher,  behind,  stumped  the 
stairs  with  a  clumsy  affectation  of  absent- 
mindedness;  the  woman  in  front  looked 


88 


A   CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

down,  merely  indifferent.  Scarce  were 
they  vanished  above,  however,  when  the 
little  hunchback  heard  his  father  and  mother 
on  the  lower  stairs. 


IX 

Dicky  came  moodily  back  from  his 
dinner  at  Mr.  Weech's,  plunged  in  mys- 
tified computation  :  starting  with  a  debt 
of  twopence,  he  had  paid  Mr.  Weech  an 
excellent  clock  —  a  luxurious  article  in 
Dicky's  eyes  —  had  eaten  a  bloater,  and 
had  emerged  from  the  transaction  owing 
threepence  half-penny.  Of  what  such  a 
clock  cost  he  had  no  notion,  though  he 
felt  it  must  be  some  inconceivable  sum 
As  Mr.  Weech  put  it  the  adjustment 
of  accounts  would  seem  to  be  quite 
correct  ;  but  the  broad  fact  that  all  had 
ended  in  increasing  his  debt  by  three  half- 
pence, remained  and  perplexed  him.  He 
remembered  having  seen  such  clocks  in  a 
shop  in  Norton  Folgate.  To  ask  the 
90 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

price,  in  person,  were  but  to  be  chased 
out  of  the  shop  ;  but  they  were  probably 
ticketed,  and  perhaps  he  might  ask  some 
bystander  to  read  the  ticket.  This  brought 
the  reflection  that,  after  all,  reading  was  a 
useful  accomplishment  on  occasion;  though 
a  matter  of  too  much  time  and  trouble  to 
be  WjQTth  while.  ^'  Dicky  had  never  been 
to  school  ;  for  the  Elementary  Education 
Act  ran  in  the  Jago  no  more  than  any 
other  Act  of  Parliament.^'  There  was  a 
Board  School,  truly,  away  out  of  the 
Jago  bounds,  by  the  corner  of  Honey  Lane, 
where  children  might  go  free,  and  where 
some  few  Jago  children  did  go  now  and 
again,  when  boots  were  to  be  given  away, 
or  when  tickets  were  to  be  had,  for  tea,  or 
soup,  or  the  like.  But  most  parents  were 
of  Josh  Perrott's  opinion — that  school- 
going  was  a  practice  best  never  begun ; 
for  then  the  child  was  never  heard  of, 
and  there  was  no  chance  of  inquiries  or 
such  trouble  —  not  that  any  such  inquiries 

9^ 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

were  common  in  the  Jago,  or  led  to  any- 
thing. 

Meantime  Dicky,  minded  to  know  if 
his  adventure  had  made  any  stir  in  the 
house,  carried  his  way  deviously  towards 
home.  Working  through  the  parts  beyond 
Jago  Row,  he  fetched  *  round  into  Honey 
Lane,  so  coming  at  New  Jago  Street  from 
the  farther  side.  Choosing  one  of  the 
houses  whose  backs  gave  on  Jago  Court, 
he  slipped  through  the  passage,  and  so,  by 
the  back-yard,  crawled  through  the  broken 
fence  into  the  court.  Left  and  right  were 
the  fronts  of  houses,  four  a  side.  Before 
him,  to  the  right  of  the  narrow  archway 
leading  to  Old  Jago  Street,  was  the  window 
of  his  own  home.  He  gained  the  back- 
yard quietly,  and  at  the  kitchen  door  met 
Tommy  Rann. 

«  Come  on,"  called  Tommy.  "  'Ere  's 
a  barney  !  They  're  a-pitchin'  into  them 
noo  'uns  —  Roperses.      Roperses  sez  Fish- 


93 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

erscs  is  sneaked  their  things.     They  are 
a-gittin'  of  it  !  '* 

From  the  stairs,  indeed,  came  shouts  and 
curses,  bumps  and  sobs  and  cries.  The 
first  landing  and  half  the  stairs  were  full  of 
people,  men  and  women,  Ranns  and  Learys 
together.  When  Ranns  joined  Learys  it 
was  an  ill  omen  for  them  they  marched 
against ;  and  never  were  they  so  ready  and 
auxious  to  combine  as  after  a  fight  between 
themselves,  were  but  some  common  object 
of  attack  available.  Here  it  was.  Here 
were  these  pestilent  outsiders,  the  Ropers, 
assailing  the  reputation  of  the  neighbour- 
hood by  complaining  of  being  robbed.  As 
though  their  mere  presence  in  the  Jago, 
with  their  furniture  and  their  superiority, 
were  not  obnoxious  enough :  they  must  turn 
about  and  call  their  neighbours  thieves. 
They  had  been  tolerated  too  long  already. 
They  should  now  be  given  something  for 
themselves,  and  have  some  of  their  exas- 
perating respectability  knocked  off:  and  if, 
93 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

in  the  confusion,  their  portable  articles  of 
furniture  and  bed-clothing  found  their  way 
into  more  deserving  hands  —  why,  serve 
them  right. 

The  requisite  volleys  of  preliminary 
abuse  having  been  discharged,  more  active 
operations  began  under  cover  of  fresh  vol- 
leys. Dicky,  with  Tommy  Rann  behind 
him,  struggled  up  the  stairs  among  legs  and 
skirts,  and  saw  that  the  Ropers,  the  man 
flushed,  but  the  woman  paler  than  ever, 
were  striving  to  shut  their  door.  Within, 
the  hunchback  and  the  baby  cried,  and 
without,  those  on  the  landing,  skidding  the 
door  with  their  feet,  pushed  inward,  and 
now  began  to  strike  and  maul.  Somebody 
seized  the  man's  wrist,  and  Nora  Walsh 
got  the  woman  by  the  hair  and  dragged  her 
head  down.  In  a  peep  through  the  scuffle 
Dicky  saw  her  face,  ashen  and  sweat- 
beaded,  in  the  jamb  of  the  door,  and  saw 
Nora  Walsh's  red  fist  beat  into  it  twice. 
Then  somebody  came  striding  up  the  stairs, 
94 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

and  Dicky  was  pushed  further  back.  Over 
the  shoulders  of  those  about  him,  Dicky 
saw  a  tall  hat,  and  then  the  head  beneath 
it.  It  was  the  stranger  he  had  seen  in  Edge 
Lane  —  the  parson;  active  and  resolute. 

Nora  Walsh  he  took  by  the  shoulders 
and  flung  back  among  the  others,  and,  as 
he  turned  on  him,  the  man  who  held 
Roper's  wrist  released  it  and  backed  off. 

"  What  is  this  ?  "  demanded  the  new- 
comer, stern  and  hard  of  face.  "  What  is 
all  this  ?'*  He  bent  his  frown  on  one  and 
another  about  him,  and  as  he  did  it,  some 
shrank  uneasily,  and  on  the  faces  of  others 
fell  the  blank  lack  of  expression  that  was 
wont  to  meet  police  enquiry  in  the  Jago. 
Dicky  looked  to  see  this  man  beaten  down, 
kicked  and  stripped.  But  a  well-dressed 
stranger  was  so  new  a  thing  in  the  Jago, 
this  one  had  dropped  among  them  so  sud- 
denly, and  had  withal  so  bold  a  confidence, 
that  the  Jagos  stood  irresolute.  A  toff  was 
not  a  person  to  be  attacked  without  due 
95 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

consideration.  After  such  a  person  there  j 
were  apt  to  be  inquiries,  with  money  to/ 
back  them,  and  vengeance  sharp  and  cer-j 
tain :  the  thing,  indeed,  was  commonly! 
thought  too  risky.  And  this  man,  so  un-i 
flinchingly  confident,  must  needs  have  rea- 
son for  it.  He  might  have  the  police  at 
instant  call — they  might  be  back  in  the 
Jago  at  the  moment.  And  he  flung  them 
back,  commanded  them,  cowed  them  with 
his  hard,  intelligent  eyes,  like  a  tamer 
among  beasts. 

"  Understand  this,  now,"  he  went  on, 
with  a  sharp  tap  of  his  stick  on  the  floor. 
"  This  is  a  sort  of  thing  I  will  not  tolerate 
in  my  parish  —  in  this  parish  ;  nor  in  any 
other  place  where  I  may  meet  it.  Go 
away,  and  try  to  be  ashamed  of  yourselves 
—  go.  Go,  all  of  you,  I  say,  to  your  own 
homes ;  I  shall  come  there  and  talk  to  you 
again  soon.  Go  along,  Sam  Cash  —  you  *ve 
a  broken  head  already,  I  see.  Take  it 
away  j  I  shall  come  and  see  you  too." 
96 


A   CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

Those  on  the  stairs  had  melted  away 
like  punished  school-children.  Most  of 
the  others,  after  a  moment  of  averted  face 
and  muttered  justification  one  to  another, 
were  dragging  their  feet,  each  with  a  hang- 
dog pretence  of  sauntering  airily  off  from 
some  sight  no  longer  interesting.  Sam 
Cash,  who  had  already  seen  the  stranger  in 
the  street,  and  was  thus  perhaps  a  trifle 
less  startled  than  the  others  at  his  advent, 
stood,  however,  with  some  assumption  of 
virtuous  impudence,  till  amazed  by  sudden 
address  in  his  own  name ;  whereat,  clean 
discomfited,  he  ignominiously  turned  tail 
and  sneaked  downstairs  in  meaner  case 
than  the  rest.  How  should  this  strange 
parson  know  him,  and  know  his  name  ? 
Plainly  he  must  be  connected  with  the 
police.  He  had  brought  out  the  name  as 
pat  as  you  please.  So  argued  Sam  Cash 
with  his  fellows  in  the  outer  street :  never 
recalling  that  Jerry  Gullen  had  called  aloud 
to  him  by  name,  when  first  he  observed 
97 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

the  parson  in  the  street ;  had  called  to  him, 
indeed,  to  haste  to  the  bashing  of  the 
Ropers ;  and  thus  had  first  given  the 
stranger  notice  of  the  proceeding.  But  it 
was  the  way  of  the  Jago  that  its  mean 
cunning  saw  a  mystery  and  a  terror  where 
simple  intelligence  saw  there  was  none. 

As  the  crowd  began  to  break  up,  Dicky 
pushed  his  own  door  a  little  open  behind 
him  and  there  stood  on  his  own  ground  as 
the  others  cleared  ofF;  and  the  hunchback 
ventured  a  peep  from  behind  his  swooning 
mother. 

"  There  y'  are,  that  *s  'im  !"  he  shouted, 
pointing  at  Dicky.  "  'E  begun  it !  'E  took 
the  clock  !" 

Dicky  instantly  dropped  behind  his  door 
and  shut  it  fast. 

The  invaders  had  all  gone  —  the  Fishers 
had  made  upstairs  in  the  beginning  —  be- 
fore the  parson  turned  and  entered  the 
Ropers'  room.  In  five  minutes  he  emerged 
and  strode  upstairs;  whence  he  returned 
98 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

after  a  still  shorter  interval,  herding  before 
him  Old  Fisher  and  Bob  Fisher's  missis, 
sulky  and  reluctant,  carrying  tools. 

And  thus  it  was  that  the  Reverend 
Henry  Sturt  first  addressed  his  parishion- 
ers. The  parish,  besides  the  Jago,  com- 
prised Meakin  Street  and  some  way  beyond; 
and  itwas^to_this.less--i[aYage.jiisXrkLtkat 
his  predecessor  had  confined  his  attention. 
Preaching  every  Sunday  in  a  stable,  in  an 
alley  behind  a  disused  shop,  and  distribut- 
ing loaves  and  sixpences  to  the  old  women 
who  attended  regularly  on  that  account. 
For  to  go  into  the  Jago  were  for  him  mere 
wasted  effort.  And  so,  indeed,  the  matter 
had  been  since  the  parish  came  into 
being. 


When  Dicky  retreated  from  the  landing 
and  shut  the  door  behind  him,  he  slipped 
the  bolt,  a  strong  one,  put  there  by  Josh 
Perrott  himself,  possibly  as  an  accessory 
to  escape  by  the  window  in  some  possible 
desperate  pass.  For  a  little  he  listened, 
but  no  sound  hinted  of  attack  from  with- 
out, and  he  turned  to  his  mother. 

Josh  Perrott  had  been  out  since  early 
morning,  and  Dicky,  too,  had  done  no  more 
than  look  in  for  a  moment  in  search  of  din- 
ner. Hannah  Perrott,  grown  tired  of  self- 
commiseration,  felt  herself  neglected  and 
aggrieved  —  slighted  in  her  state  of  invalid 
privilege.  So  she  transferred  some  of  her 
pity  from  her  sore  neck  to  her  desolate  con- 
dition as  misprized  wife  and  mother,  and, 
the  better  to  feel  it,  proceeded  to  martyrise 


I 


A   CHILD    OP^    THE    JAGO 

herself,  with  melancholy  pleasure,  by  a 
nerveless  show  of  "  setting  to  rights  '*  in 
the  room — a  domestic  novelty,  perfunctory 
as  it  was.  Looey,  still  restless  and  weeping, 
she  left  on  the  bed,  for,  being  neglected 
herself,  it  was  not  her  mood  to  tend  the 
baby  ;  she  would  aggravate  the  relish  of 
her  sorrows  in  her  own  way.  Besides, 
Looey  had  been  given  something  to  eat  a 
long  time  ago,  and  had  not  eaten  it  yet  j 
with  her  there  was  nothing  else  to  do.  So 
that  now,  as  she  dragged  a  rag  along  the 
grease-strewn  mantelpiece,  Mrs.  Perrott 
greeted  Dicky :  "  There  y'  are,  Dicky, 
comin'  *inderin'  *ere  jest  when  I  'm  a-put- 
tin*  things  to  rights."  And  she  sighed  with 
the  weight  of  another  grievance. 

Looey  lay  on  her  back,  faintly  and 
vainly  struggling  to  turn  her  fearful  little 
face  from  the  light.  Clutched  in  her  little 
fist  was  the  unclean  stump  of  bread  she 
had  held  for  hours.  Dicky  plucked  a  soft 
piece  and  essayed  to  feed  her  with  it,  but 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

the  dry   little  mouth  rejected   the  morsel 
and   the  head  turned   feverishly  from   side 
to   side  to   the    sound  of   that  novel  cry.- 
She  W2LS  hot  wherever  Dicky  touched  her,, 
\  and  presently  he  said : — "Mother,  I  b'lieve  | 
|Looey 's  queer.     I  think  she  wants  some  | 
jmed'cine.'* 

His  mother  shook  her  head  peevishly. 
"  O  you  an*  Looey  's  a  noosance,"  she 
said.  "  A  lot  you  care  about  me  bein* 
queer,  you  an'  yer  father  too,  leavin'  me 
all  alone  like  this  an'  me  feelin'  ready  to 
drop,  an'  got  the  room  to  do  an'  all.  I 
wish  you  'd  go  away  an'  stop  'inderin'  of 
me  like  this." 

Dicky  took  but  another  look  at  Looey 
and  then  slouched  out.  The  landing  was 
clear,  and  the  Ropers'  door  was  shut.  He 
wondered  what  had  become  of  the  stranger 
with  the  tall  hat — whether  he  was  in  the 
Ropers'  room  or  not.  The  thought  hur- 
ried him,  for  he  feared  to  have  that  stranger 
asking  him  questions  about  the  clock.     He 

I02 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

got  out  into  the  street,  thoughtful.  He 
had  some  compunctions  in  the  matter  of 
that  clock,  now.  Not  that  he  could  in 
any  reasonable  way  blame  himself.  There 
the  clock  had  stood  at  his  mercy,  and  by 
all  Jago  custom  and  ethic  it  was  his  if 
only  he  could  get  clear  away  with  it. 
This  he  had  done,  and  he  had  no  more 
concern  in  the  business,  strictly  speaking. 
Nevertheless,  since  he  had  seen  the 
woman's  face  in  the  jamb  of  the  door  he 
felt  a  sort  of  pity  for  her  that  she  should 
have  lost  her  clock.  No  doubt  she  had 
enjoyed  its  possession,  as,  indeed,  he 
would  have  enjoyed  it  himself,  had  he 
not  had  to  take  it  instantly  to  Mr. 
Weech.  And  his  fancy  wandered  off  in 
meditation  of  what  he  would  do  with 
a  clock  of  his  own.  To  begin  with,  of 
course,  he  would  open  it,  and  discover  the 
secret  of  its  works  and  its  ticking:  per- 
haps thereby  discovering  how  to  make  a 
clock  himself.  Also  he  would  frequently 
103 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

wind  it  up,  and  he  would  show  the  inside 
to  Looey,  in  confidence.  It  would  stand 
on  the  mantelpiece,  and  raise  the  social 
position  of  the  family.  People  would 
come  respectfully  to  ask  the  time,  and  he 
^  /  *»/^l''^"  would  tell  them,  with   an  air.     Yes,  cer- 

UV^  tainly  a  clock  must  stand  eminent  aiapng 

the  things  he  would  buy,  when  he  had 
plenty  of  money.  He  must  look  out  for 
more  clicks  :  the  one  way  to  riches. 

As  to  the  Ropers,  again.  Bad  it  must 
be,  indeed,  to  be  deprived  suddenly  of  a 
clock,  after  long  experience  of  the  joys  it 
brought  J  and  Nora  Walsh  had  punched 
the  woman  in  the  face,  and  clawed  her  hair, 
and  the  woman  could  not  fight.  Dicky 
was  sorry  for  her,  and  straightway  resolved 
to  give  her  another  clock — or,  if  not  a 
clock,  something  that  would  please  her  as 
much.  He  had  acquired  a  clock  in  the 
morning ;  why  not  another  in  the  after- 
noon ?  Failing  a  clock,  he  would  try  for 
something  else,  and  the  Ropers  should 
104 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

have  it.  The  resolve  gave  Dicky  a  vir- 
tuous exultation  of  spirit,  the  reward  of 
the  philanthropist. 

Again  he  began  the  prowl  after  likely 
plunder  that  was  to  be  his  daily  industry. 
Meakin  Street  he  did  not  try.  The  chan- 
dlers* and  the  cook  shops  held  nothing  that 
might  be  counted  a  consolatory  equivalent 
for  a  clock.  Through  the  "Posties"  he 
reached  Shoreditch  High  Street  at  once, 
and  started. 

This  time  his  movements  aroused  less 
suspicion.  In  the  morning  he  had  no  par- 
ticular prize  in  view,  and  loitered  at  every 
shop,  waiting  his  chance  at  anything  port- 
able. Now,  with  a  more  definite  object, 
he  made  his  promenade  easily,  but  without 
stopping  or  lounging  by  shop-fronts.  The 
thing,  whatsoever  it  might  be,  must  be 
small,  handsome,  and  of  an  interesting 
character  —  at  least  as  interesting  as  the 
clock  was.  It  must  be  small,  not  merely 
for  facility  of  concealment  and  removal  — 
105 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

though  these  were  main  considerations 
—  but  because  stealthy  presentation  were 
then  the  easier.  It  would  have  pleased 
Dicky  to  hand  over  his  gift  openly,  and 
to  bask  in  the  thanks  and  consideration 
it  would  procure.  But  he  had  been  ac- 
cused of  stealing  the  clock,  and  an  open 
gift  would  savour  of  admission  and  peace- 
ofFering,  whereas  in  that  matter  stark 
denial  was  his  plain  course. 

A  roll  of  printed  stuff  would  not  do; 
apples  would  not  do ;  and  fish  was  wide  of 
his  purpose.  Up  one  side  and  down  the 
other  side  of  High  Street  he  walked,  his 
eye  instant  for  suggestion  and  opportunity. 
But  all  in  vain.  Nobody  exposed  clocks 
out  of  doors,  and  of  those  within  not  one 
but  an  attempt  on  it  were  simple  mad- 
ness. And  of  the  things  less  desperate  of 
access,  nothing  was  proper  to  the  occasion  ; 
all  were  too  large,  too  cheap,  or  too  unin- 
teresting. Oddly,  Dicky  feared  failure 
more  than  had  he  been  hunting  for  himself. 
1 06 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

He  tried  further  south,  in  Norton  Fol- 
gate.  There  was  a  shop  of  cheap  second- 
hand miscellanies;  saddles,  razors,  straps, 
dumb-bells,  pistols,  boxing  gloves,  trunks, 
bags,  and  billiard-balls.  Many  of  the  things 
hung  about  the  door-posts  in  bunches,  and 
within  all  was  black,  as  in  a  cave.  At  one 
door-post  was  a  pistol.  Nothing  could  be 
more  interesting  than  a  pistol  —  indeed,  it 
was  altogether  a  better  possession  than  a 
clock ;  and  it  was  a  small,  handy  sort  of 
thing.  Probably  the  Ropers  would  be  de- 
lighted with  a  pistol.  He  stood  and  re- 
garded it  with  much  interest.  There  were 
difficulties.  In  the  first  place,  it  was 
beyond  his  reach ;  and,  in  the  second,  it 
hung  by  the  trigger-guard  on  a  stout  cord. 
Just  then,  glancing  within  the  shop,  he 
perceived  a  pair  of  fiery  eyes  regarding 
him,  panther-like,  from  the  inner  gloom  ; 
and  he  hastily  resumed  his  walk,  as  the 
Jew  shop-keeper  reached  the  door  and 
watched  him  safely  away. 
107 


A   CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

Now  he  came  to  Bishopsgate  Street,  and 
here  at  last  he  chose  the  gift.  It  was  at  a 
toy-shop  ;  a  fine,  flaming  toy-shop,  with 
carts,  dolls  and  hoops  dangling  above,  and 
wooden  horses  standing  below,  guarding 
two  baskets  by  the  door.  One  contained  a 
mixed  assortment  of  tops,  whips,  boats,  and 
woolly  dogs;  the  other  was  lavishly  filled 
with  shining,  round  metal  boxes  nobly 
decorated  with  coloured  pictures,  each  box 
with  a  little  cranked  handle.  As  he  looked, 
a  tune,  delightfully  tinkled  on  some  in- 
strument, was  heard  from  within  the  shop. 
Dicky  peeped.  There  was  a  lady,  with 
a  little  girl  at  her  side,  looking  eagerly  at 
just  such  a  shining  round  box  in  the 
saleswoman's  hands,  and  it  was  from 
that  box,  as  the  saleswoman  turned  the 
handle,  that  the  tune  came.  Dicky  was 
enchanted.  This  — this  was  the  thing, 
beyond  debate;  a  pretty  little  box  that 
would  play  music  whenever  you  turned  a 
handle.  This  was  a  thing  worth  any  fifty 
108 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

clocks.  Indeed,  it  was  almost  as  good  as 
a  regular  barrel  organ,  the  first  thing  he 
would  buy  if  he  were  rich. 

There  was  a  shop-boy  in  charge  of  the 
goods  outside  the  window,  and  his  eyes 
were  on  Dicky.  So  Dicky  whistled  ab- 
sently, and  strolled  carelessly  along.  He 
swung  behind  a  large  waggon,  crossed  the 
road,  and  sought  a  convenient  door-step; 
for  his  mind  was  made  up,  and  his  business 
was  now  to  sit  down  before  the  toy-shop 
and  wait  his  opportunity. 

A  shop  had  been  boarded  up  after  a  fire, 
and  from  its  doorstep  one  could  command 
a  perfect  view  of  the  toy-shop  across  the 
broad  thoroughfare  with  its  crowded  traffic 
—  could  sit,  moreover,  safe  from  interfer- 
ence. Here  Dicky  took  his  seat,  secure 
from  the  notice  of  the  guardian  shop-boy, 
whose  attention  was  given  to  passengers  on 
his  own  side.  The  little  girl,  gripping  the 
new  toy  in  her  hand,  came  out  at  her 
mother's  side  and  trotted  off.  For  a  mo- 
109 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

merit  Dicky  reflected  that  the  box  could  be 
easily  snatched,  but  after  all  the  little  girl 
had  but  one;  whereas  the  shop-woman  had 
many,  and  at  best  could  play  on  no  more 
than  one  at  a  time. 

He  resumed  his  watch  of  the  shop-boy, 
confident  that,  sooner  or  later,  a  chance 
would  come.  A  woman  stopped  to  ask 
the  price  of  something,  and  Dicky  had 
half  crossed  the  road  ere  the  boy  had  be- 
gun to  answer.  But  the  answer  was 
short,  the  boy's  attention  was  released  too 
soon. 

At  last  the  shop-woman  called  the  boy 
within,  and  Dicky  darted  across  —  not  di- 
rectly, but  so  as  to  arrive  invisibly  at  the 
side  next  the  basket  of  music-boxes.  A 
quick  glance  behind  him,  a  snatch  at  the 
box  with  the  reddest  picture,  and  a  dash 
into  the  traffic  did  it. 

The  dash  away  would  not  have  been 
necessary  but  for  the  sudden  reappearance 
of  the  shop-boy  ere  the  box  had  vanished 


A   CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

amid  the  intricacies  of  Dicky's  jacket. 
Dicky  was  fast,  but  the  boy  was  little 
slower,  and  was,  moreover,  bigger,  and 
stronger  on  his  legs.  Dicky  reached  the 
other  pavement  and  turned  the  next  cor- 
ner into  Widegate  Street,  the  pursuer 
scarce  ten  yards  behind.  It  was  now  that 
Dicky  first  experienced  "hot  beef"  — 
which  Js^the  Jago  idiom,  denoting  the 
plight  of  one^Jbarried  by  the  cry  "  Stop 
thief!"  Down  Widegate  Street,  across 
Sandys  Row  and  into  Raven  Row  he  ran 
his  best,  clutching  the  hem  of  his  jacket 
and  the  music-box  that  lay  within.  Cross- 
ing Sandys  Row  a  loafing  lad  shouldered 
against  the  shop-boy,  and  Dicky  was 
grateful,  for  he  made  it  a  gain  of  several 
yards. 

^  But  others    had  joined  in  the  hunt,  andj 
Dicky  for  the  first   time    began    to  fear. 
This   was   a   bad    day  —  twice  already   he 
had  been  chased;  and  now  —  it  was  bad. 
He   thought    little   more,   for   a    stunning 


\ 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

fear  fell  upon  him :  the  fear  of  the  hunted, 
that  calculates  nothing  and  is  measured  by 
no  apprehension  of  consequences.  He  re- 
membered that  he  must  avoid  Spitalfields 
Market,  full  of  men  who  would  stop  him ; 
and  he  knew  that  in  many  places  where  a 
man  would  be  befriended,  many  would 
make  a  virtue  of  stopping  a  boy.  To  the 
right  along  Bell  Lane  he  made  an  agonised 
burst  of  speed,  and  for  a  while  he  saw  not 
nor  remembered  anything  ;  heard  no  more 
than  dreadful  shouts  drawing  nearer  his 
shoulders,  felt  only  the  fear.  But  he 
could  not  last.  Quick  enough  when 
fresh,  he  was  tiny  and  ill-fed,  and  he  now 
felt  his  legs  trembling  and  his  wind  going. 
Something  seemed  to  beat  on  the  back  of 
his  head,  till  he  wondered  madly  if  it  were 
the  shop-boy  with  a  stick.  He  turned  cor- 
ners and  chose  his  way  by  mere  instinct, 
ashen-faced,  staring,  open-mouthed.  How 
soon  would  he  give  in, and  drop  ?  A  street 
more — half  a  street  —  ten  yards?      Roll- 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

ing  and  tripping,  he  turned  one  last  corner 
and  almost  fell  against  a  vast,  fat,  unkempt 
woman  whose  clothes  slid  from  her  shoul- 
ders. 

"  *Ere  y'  are  boy,"  said  the  woman,  and 
flung  him  by  the  shoulder  through  the 
doorway  before  which  she  stood. 

He  was  saved  at  his  extremity,  for  he 
could  never  have  reached  the  street's  end. 
The  woman  who  had  done  it  (probably 
she  had  boys  of  her  own  on  the  crook) 
filled  the  entrance  with  her  frowsy  bulk, 
and  the  chase  straggled  past.  Dicky  caught 
the  stair-post  for  a  moment's  support,  and 
then  staggered  out  at  the  back  of  the  house. 
He  gasped,  he  panted,  things  danced  blue 
before  him ,  but  still  he  clutched  his  jacket 
hem  and  the  music-box  lying  within.  The 
back  door  gave  on  a  cobble-paved  court, 
with  other  doors,  two  coster's  barrows  and 
a  few  dusty  fowls.  Dicky  sat  on  a  step 
where  a  door  was  shut  and  rested  his 
head  against  the  frame. 
113 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

The  beating  in  his  head  grew  slower 
and  lighter,  and  presently  he  could  breathe 
with  no  fear  of  choking.  He  rose  and 
moved  off,  still  panting,  and  feeble  in  the 
legs.  The  court  ended  in  an  arched  pas- 
sage through  which  he  gained  the  street 
beyond.  Here  he  had  but  to  turn  to  the 
left,and  he  was  in  Brick  Lane,  and  thence 
all  was  clear  to  the  Old  Jago.  Regaining 
his  breath  and  his  confidence  as  he  went, 
he  bethought  him  of  the  Jago  Row  re- 
treat, where  he  might  examine  his  prize  at 
leisure,  embowered  amid  trucks  and  bar- 
rows. Thither  he  pushed  his  way,  and 
soon,  in  the  shade  of  the  upturned  bar- 
row, he  brought  out  the  music -box. 
Bright  and  shiny,  it  had  taken  no  damage 
in  the  flight,  though  on  his  hands  he  found 
scratches,  and  on  his  shins  bruises,  got  he 
knew  not  how.  On  the  top  of  the  box 
was  the  picture  of  a  rosy  little  boy  in 
crimson  presenting  a  scarlet  nosegay  to  a 
rosy  little  girl  in  pink,  while  a  red  brick 
114 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

mansion  filled  the  distance  and  solidified 
the  composition.  The  brilliant  hoop  that 
made  the  sides  (silver,  Dicky  was  con- 
vinced) vi^as  stamped  in  patterns,  and  the 
little  brass  handle  was  an  irresistible  temp- 
tation. Dicky  climbed  a  truck  and  looked 
about  him,  peeping  from  beside  the  loose 
fence-plank.  Then,  seeing  nobody  very 
near,  he  muffled  the  box  as  well  as  he 
could  in  his  jacket  and  turned  the  handle. 
This  was,  indeed,  worth  all  the  trouble. 
"  Gently  Does  the  Trick,"  was  the  tune,and 
Dicky,  with  his  head  aside  and  his  ear  on 
the  bunch  of  jacket  that  covered  the  box, 
listened;  his  lips  parted,  his  eyes  seeking 
illimitable  space.  He  played  the  tune 
through,  and  played  it  again ;  and  then, 
growing  reckless,  played  it  with  the  box 
unmuffled,  till  he  was  startled  by  a  bang 
on  the  fence  from  without.  It  was  but 
a  passing  boy  with  a  stick,  but  Dicky  was 
sufficiently  disturbed  to  abandon  his  quar- 
ters and  take  his  music  elsewhere. 
1^5 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

What  he  longed  to  do  was  to  take  it 
home  and  play  it  to  Looey,  but  that  was  out 
of  the  question;  he  remembered  the  watch. 
But  there  was  Jerry  Gullen's  canary,  and 
him  Dicky  sought  and  found.  Canary 
blinked  solemnly  when  the  resplendent 
box  was  flashed  in  his  eyes,  and  set  his 
ears  back  and  forward  as,  muffled  again 
in  Dicky's  jacket,  it  tinkled  out   its  tune. 

Tommy  Rann  should  not  see  it,  lest  he 
prevail  over  its  munificent  dedication  to 
the  Ropers.  Truly,  as  it  was,  Dicky's 
resolution  was  hard  to  abide  by.  The 
thing  acquired  at  such  a  cost  of  patience, 
address,  hard  flight  and  deadly  fear  was 
surely  his  by  right  —  as  surely,  quite,  as  the 
clock  had  been.  And  such  a  thing  he 
might  never  touch  again. 

But  he  put  by  the  temptation  manfully, 
and  came  out  by  Jerry  Gullen's  front  door. 
He  would  look  no  more  on  the  music-box, 
beautiful  as  it  was :  he  would  convey  it  to 
the  Ropers  before  temptation  came  again. 
ii6 


I 


A   CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

It  was  not  easy  to  devise  likely  means. 
Their  door  was  shut  fast,  of  course.  For 
a  little  while  he  favoured  the  plan  of  set- 
ting the  box  against  the  threshold,  knock- 
ing and  running  off.  But  an  opportunity 
might  arise  of  doing  the  thing  in  a  way  to 
give  him  some  glimpse  of  the  Ropers'  de- 
light, an  indulgence  he  felt  entitled  to.  So 
he  waited  a  little,  listened  a  little,  and  at 
last  came  out  into  the  street  and  loafed. 

It  was  near  six  o'clock,  and  a  smell  of 
bloater  hung  about  Jerry  Gullen's  door 
and  window ;  under  the  raised  sash  Jerry 
Gullen,  close  cropped  and  foxy  of  face, 
smoked  his  pipe,  sprawled  his  elbows,  and 
contemplated  the  world.  Dicky,  with  the 
music  box  stowed  out  of  sight,  looked  as 
blank  of  design  and  as  destitute  of  posses- 
sion as  he  could  manage ;  for  there  were 
loafers  near  Mother  Gapp's,  loafers  at  the 
Luck  Row  corner  —  at  every  corner  — 
and  loafers  by  the  "  Posties,"  all  laggard 
of  limb  and  alert  of  eve.  He  had  just 
117 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

seen  a  child,  going  with  an  empty  beer-can, 
thrown  down,  robbed  of  his  coppers  and 
a  poor  old  top,  and  kicked  away  in  help- 
less tears;  and  the  incident  was  common- 
place enough,  or  many  would  have  lacked 
pocket-money.  Whosoever  was  too  young, 
too  old,  or  too  weak  to  fight  for  it,  must 
keep  what  he  had  well  hidden,  in  the  Jago. 
Down  the  street  came  Billy  Leary,  big, 
flushed  and  limping,  and  hanging  to  a 
smaller  man  by  a  fistful  of  his  coat  on  the 
shoulder.  Dicky  knew  the  small  man  for 
a  good  toy-getter  (which=watch-stealer), — 
and  judged  he  had  had  a  good  click,  the  pro- 
ceeds whereof  Billy  Leary  was  battening 
upon  in  beer-shops.  For  Billy  Leary  rarely 
condescended  to  anything  less  honourable 
than  bashing,  and  had  not  yet  fallen  so 
low  as  to  go  about  stealing  for  himself. 
His  missus  brought  many  to  the  cosh, 
and  his  chief  necessity — another  drink — 
he  merely  demanded  of  the  nearest  person 
with  the  money  to  buy  it,  on  pain  of  bash- 
ii8 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

ing.  Or  he  walked  into  the  nearest  public 
house,  selected  the  fullest  pot,  and  spat  in 
it:  a  ceremony  that  deprived  the  purchaser 
of  further  interest  in  the  beer  and  left  it  at 
his  own  disposal.  There  were  others,  both 
Ranns  and  Learys,  who  pursued  a  similar 
way  of  life;  but  Billy  Leary  was  biggest 
among  them — big  men  not  being  common 
in  the  Jago — and  rarely  came  to  difficulty  : 
as  however  he  did  once,  having  invaded  the 
pot  of  a  stranger,  who  turned  out  to  be  a 
Mile  End  pugilist  exploring  Shoreditch.  It 
was  not  well  for  any  Jago  who  had  made 
a  click  to  have  Billy  Leary  know  of  it ;  for 
then  the  clicker  was  apt  to  be  sought  out, 
clung  to,  and  sucked  dry  ;  possibly  bashed 
as  well,  when  nothing  more  was  left,  if 
Billy  Leary  were  still  but  sober  enough  for 
the  work. 

Dicky  gazed  after  the  man  with  interest. 

It  was  he  whom  his  father  was  to  fight  in 

a  week  or  so  —  perhaps  in  a  few  days :  on 

the  first  Sunday,  indeed,  that  Leary  should 

119 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

be  deemed  fit  enough.  How  much  of  the 
limp  was  due  to  yesterday's  disaster  and 
how  much  to  to-day*s  beer  Dicky  could  not 
judge.  But  there  seemed  little  reason  to 
look  for  a  long  delay  before  the  fight.  As 
Dicky  turned  away  a  man  pushed  a  large 
truck  round  the  corner  from  Edge  Lane, 
and  on  the  footpath  beside  it  walked  the 
parson,  calm  as  ever,  with  black  clothes 
and  tall  hat,  whole  and  unsoiled.  He  had 
made  himself  known  in  the  Jago  in  course 
of  that  afternoon.  He  had  traversed  it  from 
end  to  end,  street  by  street,  and  alley  by 
alley.  His  self-possession,  his  readiness, 
his  unbending  firmness,  abashed  and  per- 
plexed the  Jagos,  and  his  appearance 
just  as  the  police  had  left  could  but  con- 
vince them  that  he  must  have  some  mys- 
terious and  potent  connexion  with  the 
force.  He  had  attempted  very  little  in  the 
way  of  domiciliary  visiting,  being  content 
for  the  time  to  see  his  parish   and   speak 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

here  a  word  and  there  another  with  his 
parishioners.  An  encounter  with  Kiddo 
Cook  did  as  much  as  anything  toward 
securing  him  a  proper  deference.  In  his 
second  walk  through  Old  Jago  Street,  as 
he  neared  The  Feathers,  he  was  aware  of 
a  bunch  of  grinning  faces  pressed  against 
the  bar  window ;  and  as  he  came  abreast, 
forth  stepped  Kiddo  Cook  from  the  door, 
impudently  affable,  smirking  and  ducking 
with  mock  obsequiousness,  and  offering  a 
quart  pot. 

"An'  'ow  jer  find  jerself,  sir  ? "  he  asked, 
with  pantomime  cordiality.  "  Hof 'ly  shock- 
in',  these  'ere  lower  classes,  ain't  they  ? 
Er — yus  ;  disgustin',  weally.  Er — might 
I  —  er  —  prepose  —  er  —  a  little  refresh- 
ment ?     Allow  me ! " 

The  parson,  grimly  impassive,  heard  him 
through,  took  the  pot,  and,  instantly  jerk- 
ing it  upward,  shot  the  beer,  a  single  splash, 
into  Kiddo's  face.      "  There  are  things  I 


121 


A   CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

must  teach  you,  I  see,  my  man,"  he  said, 
without  moving  a  muscle,  except  to  return 
the  pot. 

Kiddo  Cook,  coughing,  drenched  and 
confounded,  took  the  pot  instinctively  and 
backed  to  Mother  Gapp's  door,  while  the 
bunch  of  faces  at  the  bar  window  tossed 
and  rolled  in  a  joyous  ecstasy ;  the  ghost 
whereof  presently  struggled  painfully  among 
Kiddo's  own  dripping  features  as  he  real- 
ised the  completeness  of  his  defeat,  and  the 
expedience  of  a  patient  grin.  The  parson 
went  calmly  on. 

Before  this,  indeed  when  he  left  the 
Ropers'  room,  and  just  after  Dicky  had 
started  out,  he  had  looked  in  at  the  Per- 
rotts'  quarters  to  speak  about  the  clock. 
But  plainly  no  clock  was  there,  and  Mrs. 
Perrott's  flaccid  indignation  at  the  sug- 
gestion, and  her  unmistakable  ignorance  of 
the  affair,  decided  him  to  carry  the  matter  no 
further,  at  any  rate  for  the  present.  More- 
over, the  little  hunchback's  tale  was  incon- 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

elusive.  He  had  seen  no  clock  in  Dicky's 
possession —  had  but  met  him  on  the  stairs 
with  a  bulging  jacket.  The  thing  might 
be  suspicious,  but  the  new  parson  knew 
better  than  to  peril  his  influence  by  charg- 
ing where  he  could  not  convict.  So 
he  duly  commiserated  Hannah  Perrott's 
troubles,  suggested  that  the  baby  seemed 
unwell  and  had  better  be  taken  to  a  doctor, 
and  went  his  way  about  the  Jago. 

Now  he  stopped  at  the  truck  by  Dicky's 
front  door  and  mounted  to  the  Ropers' 
room.  For  he  had  seen  that  the  Jago  was 
no  place  for  them  now,  and  had  himself 
found  them  a  suitable  room  away  by  Dove 
Lane.  And  so,  emboldened  by  his  com- 
pany, the  Ropers  came  forth,  and  with  the 
help  of  the  man  who  had  brought  the 
truck,  carried  down  the  pieces  of  their  bed- 
stead, a  bundle  of  bedding,  the  two  chairs, 
the  pink  vases  and  the  strip  of  old  carpet, 
and  piled  them  on  the  truck  with  the  few 
more  things  that  were  theirs. 
123 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

Dicky,  with  his  hand  on  the  music  box 
in  the  lining  of  his  jacket,  sauntered  up  by 
the  tail  of  the  truck  and,  waiting  his 
chance,  plunged  his  gift  under  the  bundle 
of  bedding  and  left  it  there.  But  the  little 
hunchback's  sharp  eyes  were  jealously  on 
him, and,  "Look  there!"  he  squealed.  "'E 
put  'is  'and  in  the  truck  and  took  some- 
think  !  " 

"Ye  lie!"  answered  Dicky,  indignant 
and  hurt,  but  cautiously  backing  ofF;  "I 
ain  't  got  nothink."  He  spread  his  hands 
and  opened  his  jacket  in  proof.  "  Think 
I  got  yer  bloomin'  bedstead  ?  " 

He  had  nothing,  it  was  plain.  In  fact, 
at  the  tail  of  the  truck  there  was  nothing 
he  could  easily  have  moved  at  all,  cer- 
tainly nothing  he  could  have  concealed. 
So  the  rest  of  the  little  removal  was  hur- 
ried, for  heads  were  now  at  windows,  the 
loafers  began  to  draw  about  the  truck,  and 
trouble  might  break  out  at  any  moment: 
indeed,  the  Ropers  could  never  have  ven- 
124 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

tured  from  their  room  but  for  the  general 
uneasy  awe  of  the  parson.     For  nothing 
was  so  dangerous  in  the  Jago  as  to  impugn 
its  honesty.      To   rob  another   was   reas- 
onable and  legitimate,  and  to  avoid  being 
robbed,  so    far   as    might   be,  was   natural 
and  proper.      But   to   accuse  anybody  of 
\  a  theft  was   unsportsmanlike,  a  foul  out- 
j  rage,  a  shameful  abuse,  a  thing  unpardon-   \ 
.  able.     You    might    rob    a    man,    bash    a    ' 
I  man,    even    kill    a    man ;    but    to    "  take 
away  his  character  " —  even  when  he  had 
none  —  was    to  draw  the  execrations  of 
the  whole  Jago ;  while  to  assail  the  pure 
fame  of  the  place  —  to  "  give  the  street  a 
j  bad  name  " —  this  was  to  bring  the  Jago 
'  howling  and  bashing  about  your  ears. 

The  truck  moved  off  at  last,  amid  mur- 
murings,  mutterings  and  grunts  from  the 
onlookers.  The  man  of  the  truck  pulled. 
Roper  shoved  behind,  and  his  wife,  with 
her  threadbare  decency  and  her  meagre, 
bruised  face,  carried  the  baby,  while  the 
125 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

hunchbacked  boy  went  by  her  side.  AH 
this  under  convoy  of  the  Reverend  Henry 
Sturt. 

A  little  distance  gave  more  confidence 
to  a  few,  and  when  the  group  had  reached 
within  a  score  of  yards  of  Edge  Lane, 
there  came  a  hoot  or  two,  a  "  Yah  !  "  and 
other  less  spellable  sounds,  expressive  of 
contempt  and  defiance.  Roper  glanced 
back  nervously,  but  the  rest  held  on  their 
way  regardless.  Then  came  a  brickbat, 
which  missed  the  woman  by  very  little  and 
struck  the  truck-wheel.  At  this  the  par- 
son stopped  and  turned  on  his  heel,  and 
Cocko  Harnwell,  the  flinger,  drove  his 
hands  into  his  breeches-pockets  and  affected 
an  interest  in  Mother  Gapp*s  window, 
till,  perceiving  the  parson's  eyes  directed 
sternly  upon  him,  and  the  parson's  stick 
rising  to  point  at  him,  he  ingloriously 
turned  tail,  and  scuttled  into  Jago  Court. 

And  so  the  Ropers  left  the  Jago.  Dove 
Lane  was  but  a  stone-throw  ahead  when 
126 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

some  of  the  load  shifted,  and  the  truck  was 
stopped  to  set  the  matter  right.  The  chest 
was  pushed  back  and  the  bedding  was 
lifted  to  put  against  it,  and  so  the  musical- 
box  came  to  light.  Roper  picked  it  up 
and  held  it  before  the  Vicar's  eyes.  "  Look 
at  that,  sir,"  he  said.  "  You  '11  witness  I 
know  nothing  of  it,  won  't  you  ?  It  ain  't 
mine  an'  I  never  saw  it  before.  It 's  bin 
put  in  for  spite,  to  put  a  theft  on  us. 
When  they  come  for  it  you  '11  bear  me  out 
sir,  won 't  you  ?  That  was  the  Perrott 
boy  as  was^put  up  to  do  that,  I '11  be  bound. 
When  he  was  behind  the  truck.'* 

But  nobody  came  for  Dicky's  gift,  and 
in  the  Jago  twilight  Dicky  vainly  struggled 
to  whistle  the  half-remembered  tune:  and 
to  persuade  himself  that  he  was  not  sorry 
that  the  box  was  gone. 


XL 

Josh  Perrott  reached  home  late  for  tea 
but  in  good  humor.  He  had  spent  most  of 
the  day  at  the  Bag  of  Nails,  dancing 
attendance  on  the  High  Mobsmen.  Those 
of  the  High  Mob  were  the  flourishing 
practitioners  in  burglary,  the  mag,  the 
mace,  and  the  broads,  with  an  outer  fringe 
of  such  dippers  —  pickpockets  —  as  could 
dress  well,  welshers  and  snidesmen.  These, 
the  grandees  of  rascality,  lived  in  places  far 
from  the  Jago,  and  some  drove  in  gigs  and 
pony  traps.  But  they  found  the  Bag  of 
Nails  a  convenient  and  secluded  exchange 
and  house  of  call,  and  there  they  met, 
made  appointments,  designed  villainies,  and 
tossed  for  sovereigns :  deeply  reverenced 
by  the  admiring  Jagos,  among  whom  no 
umbition  flourished  but  this — to  become 
12S 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

also  of  these  resplendent  ones.  It  was  of 
these  that  old  Beveridge  had  spoken  one 
day  to  Dicky,  in  language  the  child  but 
half  understood.  The  old  man  sat  on  a 
kerb  in  view  of  the  Bag  of  Nails  and 
smoked  a  blackened  bit  of  clay  pipe.  He 
hauled  Dicky  to  his  side,  and,  pointing 
with  his  pipe,  said:  —  "See  that  man  with 
the  furs?'* 

"  What  ?"  Dicky  replied.  "  Mean  'im 
in  the  ice-cream  coat,  smokin'  a  cigar  ? 
Yus." 

"  And  the  other,  with  the  brimmy  tall- 
hat,  and  the  red  face,  and  the  umbrella  ?" 

"  Yus." 

"  What  are  they  ?" 

"  'Igh  mob.     'Ooks.     TofFs." 

"  Right.  Now,  Dicky  Perrott,  you 
Jago  whelp,  look  at  them — look  hard. 
Some  day,  if  you're  clever — cleverer 
than  anyone  in  the  Jago  now  —  if  you  're 
only  scoundrel  enough,  and  brazen  enough, 
and  lucky  enough  —  one  of  a  thousand  — 
129 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   J  AGO 

maybe  you  '11  be  like  them  ;  bursting  with 
high  living,  drunk  when  you  like,  red  and 
pimply.  There  it  is  —  that's  your  aim 
in  life  —  there  's  your  pattern.  Learn  to 
read  and  write,  learn  all  you  can,  learn 
cunning,  spare  nobody  and  stop  at  noth- 
ing, and  perhaps  — "  he  waved  his  hand 
toward  the  Bag  of  Nails.  "  It 's  the  best 
the  world  has  for  you,  for  the  Jago  's  got 
you,  and  that 's  the  only  way  out,  except 
gaol  and  the  gallows.  So  do  your  devil- 
most,  or  God  help  you,  Dicky  Perrott  — 
though  He  won  't :  for  the  Jago 's  got 
you  !" 

Old  Beveridge  had  eccentric  talk  and 
manners,  and  the  Jago  regarded  him  as  a 
trifle  "  balmy,"  though  anything  but  a 
fool.  So  that  Dicky  troubled  little  to  sift 
the  meaning  of  what  he  said. 

Josh  Perrott's  mission  among  the  High 
Mob  had  been  to  discover  some  Mobs- 
man who  might  be  disposed  to  back  him 
in  the  fight  with  Billy  Leary.  For  though 
130 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

a  private  feud  were  the  first  cause  of  the 
turn-up,  still,  business  must  never  be  neg- 
lected, and  a  feud  or  anything  else  that 
could  produce  money  must  be  made  to 
produce  it,  and  w^hen  a  fight  of  excep- 
tional merit  is  placed  before  spectators,  it 
is  but  fair  that  they  should  pay  for  their 
diversion. 

But  few  High  Mobsmen  were  at  the 
Bag  of  Nails  that  day.  Sunday  was  the 
day  of  the  chief  gatherings  of  the  High 
Mob :  Sunday  the  market-day,  so  to  speak, 
of  the  Jago,  when  such  such  rent  as  v/as 
due  weekly  was  paid  (most  of  the  Jago  rents 
were  paid  daily  and  nightly)  and  other  ac- 
counts were  settled  or  fought  out.  More- 
over, the  High  Mob  were  perhaps  a  trifle  shy 
of  the  Jago  at  the  time  of  a  faction  fight ; 
and  one  was  but  just  over,  and  that  cut 
short  at  a  third  of  the  usual  span  of  days. 
So  that  Josh  waited  long  and  touted  vainly 
till  a  patron  arrived  who  knew  him  of  old ; 
who  had  employed  him,  indeed,  as  "mind- 
131 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

er  **  —  which  means  a  protector  or  a  bully, 
as  you  please  to  regard  it — on  a  race- 
course adventure  involving  bodily  risk. 
On  this  occasion  Josh  had  earned  his 
wages  with  hard  knocks,  given  and  taken, 
and  his  employer  had  conceived  a  high 
and  a  thankful  opinion  of  his  capacity. 
Wherefore  he  listened  now  to  the  tale  of 
the  coming  fight,  and  agreed  to  pro- 
vide something  in  the  way  of  stakes,  and 
to  put  something  "on"  for  Josh  himself: 
looking  for  his  own  profit  to  the  bets  he 
might  make  at  favourable  odds  with  his 
friends.  For  Billy  Leary  was  notorious 
as  being  near  prime  ruffian  of  the  Jago, 
while  Josh*s  reputation  was  neither  so  evil 
nor  so  wide.  And  so  it  was  settled,  and 
Josh  came  pleased  to  his  tea  ;  for  assuredly 
Billy  Leary  would  have  no  difficulty  in 
finding  another  notable  of  the  High  Mob 
to  cover  the  stakes. 

Dicky  was  at  home,  sitting  by  Looey  on 
the    bed,   and  when    he    called    his   father 
132 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    J  A  GO 

it  seemed  pretty  plain  to  Josh  that  the  baby 
was  out  of  sorts.  "  She  's  rum  about  the 
eyes,"  he  said  to  his  wife.  "  Blimy  if  she 
do  n't  look  as  though  she  was  goin'  to 
squint." 

Josh  was  never  particularly  solicitous  as 
to  the  children,  but  he  saw  that  they  were 
fed  and  clothed  —  perhaps  by  mere  force 
of  the  habit  of  his  more  reputable  days  of 
plastering.  He  had  brought  home  tripe, 
rolled  in  paper,  and  stuffed  into  his  coat 
pocket,  to  make  a  supper  on  the  strength 
of  the  day's  stroke  of  business.  When 
this  tripe  was  boiled,  he  and  Dicky  essayed 
to  drive  morsels  into  Looey's  mouth,  and 
to  wash  them  down  with  beer ;  but  to  no 
end  but  choking  rejection.  Whereat  Josh 
decided  that  she  must  go  to  the  dispensary 
in  the  morning.  And  in  the  morning  he 
took  her,  with  Dicky  at  his  heels ;  for  not 
only  did  his  wife  still  nurse  her  neck,  but 
in  truth  she  feared  to  venture  abroad. 

The  dispensary  was  no  charitable  insti- 

133 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

tution,  but  a  shop  so  labeled  in  Meakin 
Street,  one  of  half  a  dozen  such  kept  by  a 
medical  man  who  lived  away  from  them, 
and  bothered  himself  as  little  about  them 
as  was  consistent  with  banking  the  takings 
and  signing  the  death  certificates.  A  needy 
young  student,  whose  sole  qualification  was 
cheapness,  was  set  to  do  the  business  of 
each  place,  and  the  uniform  price  for 
advice  and  medicine  was  sixpence.  But 
there  was  a  deal  of  professional  character 
in  the  blackened  and  gilt-lettered  front 
windows,  and  the  sixpences  came  by  hun- 
dreds. For  hospital  letters  but  rarely  came 
Meakin  Street  way.  Such  as  did  were 
mostly  in  the  hands  of  tradesmen  who  sub- 
scribed for  the  purpose  of  getting  them, 
and  gave  them  to  their  best  customers, 
as  was  proper  and  bnsiness-like.  And  so 
the  dispensary  flourished,  and  the  needy 
young  student  grew  shifty  and  callous,  and 
no  doubt  there  were  occasional  faith-cures. 
Indeed,  cures  of  simple  science  were  not  at 
134 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

all  impossible.  For  there  was  always  a 
good  supply  of  two  drugs  in  the  place  — 
Turkey  rhubarb  and  sulphuric  acid;  both 
very  useful,  both  very  cheap,  and  both 
going  very  far  in  varied  preparation,  prop- 
erly handled.  An  ounce  or  two  of  sul- 
phuric acid,  for  instance,  costing  something 
fractional,  dilutes  with  water  iuto  many 
gallons  of  physic.  Excellent  medicines 
they  made,  too,  and  balanced  each  other 
remarkably  well  by  reason  of  their  opposite 
effects.  But  indeed  they  were  not  all,  for 
sometimes  there  were  other  two  or  three 
drugs  in  hand,  interfering,  perhaps  trouble- 
somely,  with  the  simple  division  of  thera- 
peutics into  the  two  provinces  of  rhubarb 
and  sulphuric  acid. 

Business  was  brisk  at  the  dispensary : 
several  were  waiting,  and  medicine  and 
advice  were  going  at  the  rate  of  two  min- 
utes for  sixpence.  Looey's  case  was  not 
so  clear  as  most  of  the  others ;  she  could 
not  describe  its  symptoms  succinctly,  as 
135 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

"  a  pain  here,"  or  "  a  tight  feeling  there." 
She  did  but  lie  heavily,  staring  blankly 
upward  (she  did  not  mind  the  light  now) 
with  the  little  cast  in  her  eyes,  and  repeat 
her  odd  little  wail;  and  Dicky  and  her 
father  could  tell  very  little.  The  young 
student  had  a  passing  thought  that  he  might 
have  known  a  trifle  more  of  the  matter  if 
he  had  had  time  to  turn  up  Ross  on  nerve 
and  brain  troubles  —  were  such  a  proceed- 
ing consistent  with  the  dignity  of  the 
dispensary — but  straightway  assigning  the 
case  to  the  rhubarb  province,  made  up  a 
powder,  ordered  Josh  to  keep  the  baby 
quiet,  and  pitched  his  sixpence  among  the 
others  well  within  the  two  minutes. 

And  faith  in  the  dispensary  was  strength- 
ened, for  indeed  Looey  seemed  a  little 
better  after  the  powder ;  and  she  was  fed 
with  spoonfuls  of  a  fluid  bought  at  a 
chandler's  shop,  and  called  milk. 


136 


XII 

"  Dicky  Perrott,  come  *ere,"  said  Mr. 
Aaron  Weech  in  a  voice  of  sad  rebuke,  a 
few  days  later.  "  Come  *ere,  Dicky  Per- 
rott." 

He  shook  his  head  solemnly  as  he 
stooped.     Dicky  slouched  up. 

"  What  was  that  you  found  the  other 
day  and  did  n't  bring  to  me  ?  '* 

"  Nuffin'."      Dicky  withdrew  a  step. 

'^  It 's  no  good  you  a-tellin*  me  that, 
Dicky  Perrott,  when  I  know  better.  You 
know  very  well  you  can  *t  prevent  me 
knowin'."  His  little  eyes  searched  Dicky's 
face,  and  Dicky  sulkily  shifted  his  own 
gaze.  "  You  *re  a  wicked,  ungrateful 
young  'ound,  an'  I  've  a  good  mind  to  tell 
a  p'liceman  to  find  out  where  you  got  that 
clock.  Come  'ere,  now  —  do  n't  you  try 
137 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

runnin'  away.  Wot !  After  me  a-takiu' 
you  in  when  you  was  'ungry,  an*  givin' 
you  cawfy  an'  cake,  an'  good  advice  like  a 
father,  an'  a  bloater  an'  all,  and  you  owin' 
me  thrippence  'a'peny  besides,  then  you 
goes  an' — an  takes  your  findin's  somewhere 
else  !  " 

"  I  never  ! "  protested  Dicky  stoutly, 
but  Mr.  Weech's  cunning,  equal  to  a 
shrewd  guess  that  since  his  last  visit  Dicky 
had  probably  had  another  "  find,"  and 
quick  to  detect  a  lie,  was  slack  to  perceive 
a  truth. 

"  Now,   don't    you    go    an'   add    on   a 

wicked  lie  to  your  sinful  ungratefulness, 

;WOtever  you  do,"  he  said  severely,  "that's 

I  wuss,  and  I  alwis   know.     Doncher  know 

the  little  'ymn  ? : — 

'An'  'im  as  does  one  fault  at  fust 

An'  lies  to  'ide  it,  makes  it  two  ! ' 

It 's  bad  enough  to  be  ungrateful  to  me  as 

is    bin   so  kind  to  you,  an*   it  's   wuss  to 

break    the    fust    commandment.      If  the 

138 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

bloater  do  n't  inflooence  you,  the  'oly  'ymn 
ought.  'Ow  would  you  like  me  to  go  an' 
ask  yer  father  for  that  thrippence  'a'peny 
you  owe  me  ?  That 's  wot  I  '11  'ave  to 
do,  if  you  do  n't  mind." 

Dicky  would  not  have  liked  it  at  all, 
as   his  frightened  face  testified. 

"  Then  find  somethink  an'  pay  it  at 
once,  an'  then  I  wo  n't.  I  wo  n't  be  'ard 
on  you,  if  you  '11  be  a  good  boy.  But 
do  n't  git  playin'  no  more  tricks  —  cos  I  '11 
know  all  about  'em.  Now,  go  and  find 
somethink  quick."     And  Dicky  went. 


XIII 

Ten  days  after  his  first  tour  of  the  Old 
Jago,  the  Reverend  Henry  Sturt  first 
preached  in  the  parish  church  made  of  a 
stable,  in  an  alley  behind  Meakin  Street, 
but  few  yards  away,  though  beyond  sight 
and  sound  of  the  Jago. 

There,  that  Sunday  morning  was  a  morn- 
ing of  importance,  a  time  of  excitement, 
for  the  fight  between  Billy  Leary  and  Josh 
Perrott  was  to  come  off^  in  Jago  Court. 
The  assurance  that  there  was  money  in  the 
thing  was  a  sovereign  liniment  for  Billy 
Leary*s  bruises  —  for  they  were  but  bruises 
— and  he  hastened  to  come  by  that  money, 
lest  it  melt  by  caprice  of  the  backers, 
or  the  backers  themselves  fall  at  un- 
lucky odds  with  the  police.  He  made  little 
of  Josh  Perrott,  his  hardness  and  known 
140 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

fighting  power  notwithstanding.  For  was 
there  not  full  a  stone  and  a  half  between 
their  weights  ?  and  had  Billy  not  four  or 
five  inches  the  better  in  height  and  a  com- 
mensurate advantage  in  reach  ?  And  Billy 
Leary's  own  hardness  and  fighting  power 
were  well  proved  enough. 

It  was  past  eleven  o'clock.  The  weekly 
rents  —  for  the  week  forthcoming  —  had 
been  extracted,  or  partly  extracted,  or 
scuffled  over.  Old  Poll  Rann,  who  had 
made  money  in  sixty-five  years  of  stall- 
farming  and  iniquity,  had  made  the  rounds 
of  the  six  houses  she  rented,  to  turn  out 
the  tenants  of  the  night  who  were  disposed 
to  linger.  Many  had  already  stripped 
themselves  to  their  rags  at  pitch  and  toss 
in  Jago  Court;  and  the  game  still  went 
busily  on  in  the  crowded  area  and  in  over- 
flow groups  in  Old  Jago  Street,  and  men 
found  themselves  deprived,  not  merely  of 
the  money  for  that  day's  food  and  that 
night's  lodging,  but  even  of  the  last  few 
J4I 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

pence  set  aside  to  back  a  horse  for  Tues- 
day's race.  A  little-regarded  fight  or  two 
went  on  here  and  there  as  usual,  and  on 
kerbs  and  doorsteps  sat  women,  hideous  at 
all  ages,  filling  the  air  with  the  rhetoric  of 
the  Jago. 

Presently  down  from  Edge  Lane  and 
the  "  Posties  "  came  the  High  Mobsmen, 
swaggering  in  check  suits  and  billycocks, 
gold  chains  and  lumpy  rings:  stared  at, 
envied,  and  here  and  there  pointed  out  by 
name  or  exploit :  "  Him  as  done  the  sparks 
in  from  Regent  Street  for  nine  centuries  o' 
quids'* ;  "him  as  done  five  stretch  for  a 
snide  bank  bill  an'  they  never  found  the 
'oof";  "him  as  maced  the  bookies  in 
France  an'  shot  the  nark  in  the  boat " ; 
and  so  forth.  And  the  High  Mob  being 
come,  the  fight  was  due. 

Of  course,  a  fight  merely  as  a  fight  was 

no  great  matter  of  interest ;  the  thing  was 

too  common.      But  there  was  money  on 

this;  and  again,  it  was  no  common  thing  to 

142 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

find  Billy  Leary  defied,  still  less  to  find 
him  challenged.  Moreover,  the  thing  had 
a  Rann  and  Leary  complexion,  and  it  arose 
out  of  the  battle  of  less  than  a  fortnight 
back.  So  that  Josh  Perrott  did  not  lack 
for  partisans,  though  not  a  Rann  believed 
he  could  stand  long  before  Billy  Leary. 
Billy's  cause,  too,  had  lost  some  popularity 
because  it  had  been  reported  that  Sally 
Green,  in  hospital,  had  talked  of  "  sum- 
monsing "  Nora  Walsh  in  the  matter  of 
her  mangled  face;  a  scandalous  device  to 
overreach,  a  piece  of  foul  practice  repug- 
nant to  all  proper  feeling  ;  more  especially 
for  such  a  distinguished  Jago  as  Sally 
Green,  so  well  able  to  take  care  of  herself. 
But  all  this  was  nothing  as  affecting  the 
odds.  They  ruled  at  three  to  one  on  Billy 
Leary,  with  few  takers,  and  went  to  four 
to  one  before  the  fight  began. 

Josh  Perrott  had  been  strictly  sober  for 
a  full  week.    And  the  family  had  lived  bet- 
ter, for   he  had   brought   meat  home  each 
H3 


A    CHILD    OF    THEJAGO 

day.  Now  he  sat  indifferently  at  the  win- 
dow of  his  room,  and  looked  out  at  the 
crowd  in  Jago  Court  till  such  time  as  he 
might  be  wanted.  He  had  not  been  out 
of  the  room  that  morning :  he  was  saving 
his  energy  for  Billy  Leary. 

As  for  Dicky,  he  had  scarce  slept  for  ex- 
citement. For  days  he  had  enjoyed  consid- 
eration among  his  fellows  on  account  of  this 
fight.  Now  he  shook  and  quivered,  and 
nothing  relieved  his  agitation  but  violent  ex- 
ertion. So  he  rushed  down  stairs  a  hundred 
times  to  see  if  the  High  Mob  were  coming, 
and  back  to  report  that  they  were  not.  At 
last  he  saw  their  overbearing  checks,  and 
tore  upstairs,  face  before  knees,  with  "  'Ere 
they  are,  father !  'Ere  they  are  !  They  're 
comin'  down  the  street,  father ! "  and  danced 
frenzied  about  the  room  and  the  landing. 

Presently  Jerry  Gullen  and  Kiddo  Cook 

came,  as   seconds,  to   take   Josh    out,  and 

then    Dicky    quieted    a    little    externally, 

though  he  was  bursting  at  the  chest  and 

144 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

throat,  and  his  chin  jolted  his  teeth  to- 
gether uncontrollably.  Josh  dragged  off 
his  spotted  coat  and  waistcoat  and  flung 
them  on  the  bed,  and  was  then  helped  out 
of  his  ill-mended  blue  shirt.  He  gave  a 
hitch  to  his  trousers-band,  tightened  his 
belt,  and  was  ready. 

"  Ta-ta,  ol'  gal,"  he  said  to  his  wife, 
with  a  grin  ;  "  back  agin  soon." 

"With  a  bob  or  two  for  ye,"  added 
Kiddo  Cook,  grinning  likewise. 

Hannah  Perrott  sat  pale  and  wistful, 
with  the  baby  on  her  knees.  Through 
the  morning  she  had  sat  so,  wretched  and 
helpless,  sometimes  patting  her  face  in  her 
hands,  sometimes  breaking  out  hopeless- 
ly:— "  Do  n't.  Josh,  do  n't — good  Gawd 
Josh,  I  wish  you  would  n't !  '  or,  "  Josh, 
Josh,  I  wish  I  was  dead  !"  Josh  had 
fought  before,  it  was  true,  and  more  than 
once,  but  then  she  had  learned  of  the  mat- 
ter afterward.  This  preparation  and  long 
waiting   were   another  thing.      Once    she 

145 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

had  even  exclaimed  that  she  would  go 
with  him  —  though  she  meant  nothing. 

Now,  as  Josh  went  out  at  the  door,  she 
bent  over  Looey  and  hid  her  face  again. 
"Good  luck,  father,"  called  Dicky,  "Go 
it  !"  —  though  the  words  would  hardly 
pass  his  throat,  and  he  struggled  to  believe 
that  he  had  no  fear  for  his  father. 

No  sooner  was  the  door  shut  than  he 
rushed  to  the  window,  though  Josh  could 
not  appear  in  Jago  Court  for  three  or  four 
minutes  yet.  The  sash-line  was  broken, 
and  the  window  had  been  propped  open 
with  a  stick.  In  his  excitement  Dicky 
dislodged  the  stick,  and  the  sash  came 
down  on  his  head,  but  he  scarce  felt  the 
blow,  and  readjusted  the  stick  with  trem- 
bling hands,  regardless  of  the  bruise  rising 
under  his  hair.  "Aincher  goin'  to  look, 
mother  ?"  he  asked ;  "  woncher  'old  up 
Looey  ?" 

But  his  mother  would  not  look.  As 
for  Looey,  she  looked  at  nothing.  She 
146 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

had  been  taken  to  the  dispensary  once 
again,  and  now  lay  drowsy  and  dull,  with 
little  more  movement  than  a  general  shud- 
der and  a  twitching  of  the  face  at  long  in- 
tervals ;  the  little  face  itself  was  thinner 
and  older  than  ever  :  horribly  flea-bitten 
still,  but  bloodlessly  pale.  Mrs.  Perrott 
had  begun  to  think  Looey  was  ailing  for 
something  ;  thought  it  might  be  measles 
or  whooping-cough  coming,  and  com- 
plained that  children  were  a  continual 
worry. 

Dicky  hung  head  and  shoulders  out  of 
the  window,  clinging  to  the  broken  sill 
and  scraping  feverishly  at  the  wall  with 
his  toes. 

Jago  Court  was  fuller  than  ever.  The 
tossing  went  on,  though  now  with  more 
haste,  that  most  might  be  made  of  the 
remaining  time.  A  scuffle  still  persisted 
in  one  corner.  Some  stood  to  gaze  at  the 
High  Mob,  who,  to  the  number  of  eight 
or  ten,  stood  in  an  exalted  group  over 
M7 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

against  the  back  fences  of  New  Jago 
Street;  but  the  thickest  knot  was  about 
Cocko  Harnwell's  doorstep,  whereon  sat 
Billy  Leary,  his  head  just  visible  through 
the  press  about  him,  waiting  to  keep  his 
appointment. 

Then  a  close  group  appeared  at  the 
archway,  and  pushed  into  the  crowd, 
which  made  way  at  its  touch,  the  dis- 
turbed tossers  pocketing  their  coppers, 
but  the  others  busily  persisting,  with  no 
more  than  a  glance  aside  between  the 
spins.  Josh  Perrott's  cropped  head  and 
bare  shoulders  marked  the  centre  of  the 
group,  and  as  it  came,  another  group 
moved  out  from  Cocko  Harnwell's  door- 
step, with  Billy  Leary's  tall  bulk  shining 
pink  and  hairy  in  its  midst. 

"  'E's  in  the  Court,  mother  !  "  called 
Dicky,  scraping  faster  with  his  toes. 

The  High  Mobsmen  moved  up  toward 
the  middle  of  the  court,  and  some  from  the 
two  groups  spread  and  pushed  back  the 
14S 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

crowd.  Still  half  a  dozen  couples,  remote 
by  the  walls,  tossed  and  tossed  faster  than 
ever,  moving  this  way  and  that  as  the 
crowd  pressed. 

Now  there  was  an  irregular  space  of 
bare  cobble  stones  and  house  refuse,  five 
or  six  yards  across,  in  the  middle  of  Jago 
Court,  and  all  round  it  the  shouting  crowd 
was  packed  tight,  those  at  the  back  stand- 
ing on  sills  and  hanging  to  fences.  Every 
window  was  a  clump  of  heads,  and  women 
yelled  savagely  or  cheerily  down  and 
across.  The  two  groups  were  merged  in 
the  press  at  each  side  of  the  square,  Billy 
Leary  and  Josh  Perrott  in  front  of  each, 
with  his  seconds. 

"  Naa,  then,  any  more  'fore  they  begin?'* 
bawled  a  High  Mobsman,  turning  about 
among  his  fellows.  "  Three  to  one  on 
the  big  'un  —  three  to  one!  'Ere,  I'll 
give  four  —  four  to  one  on  Leary  !  Fourer 
one  !     Fourer  one  !  " 

But  they  shook  their  heads  -,  thev  would 
149 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

wait  a  little.  Leary  and  Perrott  stepped 
out.  The  last  of  the  tossers  stuffed  away 
his  coppers  and  sought  for  a  hold  on  the 
fence. 

"  They  're  a-sparrin',  mother  !  "  cried 
Dicky,  pale  and  staring,  elbows  and  legs 
a-work,  till  he  was  like  to  pitch  out  of 
window.  From  his  mother  there  but 
jerked  a  whimpering  sob,  which  he  did 
not  hear. 

The  sparring  was  not  long.  There  was 
little  of  subtlety  in  the  milling  of  the 
Jago  ;  mostly  no  more  than  a  rough  appli- 
cation of  the  main  hits  and  guards,  with 
much  rushing  and  ruffianing.  What  there 
was  of  condition  in  the  two  men  was 
Josh's :  smaller  and  shorter,  he  had  a  cer- 
tain hard  brownness  of  hide  that  Leary,  in 
his  heavy  opulence  of  flesh,  lacked,  and 
there  was  a  horny  quality  in  his  face  and 
hands  that  reminded  the  company  of  his 
boast  of  invulnerability  to  anything  milder 
than  steel;  also  his  breadth  of  chest  was 
150 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

great.  Nevertheless,  all  odds  seemed 
against  him,  by  reason  of  Billy  Leary's 
size,  reach,  and  fighting  record. 

The  men  rushed  together,  and  Josh  was 
forced  back  by  weight.  Leary's  great  fists, 
left  and  right,  shot  into  his  face  with 
smacking  reports,  but  left  no  mark  on  the 
leathery  skin,  and  Josh,  fighting  for  the 
body,  drove  his  knuckles  into  the  other's 
ribs  with  a  force  that  jerked  a  thick  grunt 
from  Billy's  lips  at  each  blow. 

There  was  a  roar  of  shouts.  "  Go  it, 
father!  Fa — ther  !  Fa  —  ther!"  Dicky 
screamed  from  the  window,  till  his  voice 
broke  in  his  throat  and  he  coughed  himself 
livid.  The  men  were  at  holds,  and  sway- 
ing this  way  and  that  over  the  uneven 
stones.  Blood  ran  copiously  from  Billy 
Leary's  nose  over  his  mouth  and  chin,  and, 
as  they  turned,  Dicky  saw  his  father  spit 
away  a  tooth  over  Leary's  shoulder.  They 
clipped  and  hauled  to  and  fro,  each  striving 
to  break  the  other's  foothold.  Then  Per- 
151 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    J  AGO 

rott  stumbled  at  a  hole,  lost  his  feet  and 
went  down,  with  Leary  on  top. 

Cheers  and  yells  rent  the  air  as  each 
man  was  taken  to  his  own  side  by  his  sec- 
onds. Dicky  let  go  the  sill  and  turned  to 
his  mother,  wild  of  eye,  breathless  with 
broken  chatter. 

"  Father  *it  'im  on  the  nose,  mother, 
like  that  —  'is  ribs  is  goin'  black  where 
father  pasted  'em  —  'e  was  out  o*  breath 
fust  —  there's  blood  all  over  his  face, 
mother — father  would  'a'  chucked  'irn 
over  if  'e  'ad  n't  tumbled  in  a  'ole  —  father 
'it  'im  twice  on  the  jore — 'e  —  O  !" 

Dicky  was  back  again  on  the  sill,  kick- 
ing and  shouting,  for  time  was  called,  and 
the  two  men  rushed  again  into  a  tangled 
knot.  But  the  close  strife  was  short. 
Josh  had  but  closed  to  spoil  his  man's 
wind,  and,  leaving  his  head  to  take  care  of 
itself,  stayed  till  he  had  driven  left  and 
right  on  the  mark,  and  then  got  back. 
Leary  came  after  him,  gasping  and  blow- 


A  CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

ing  already,  and  Josh  feinted  a  lead  and 
avoided,  bringing  Leary  round  on  his  heel 
and  ofF  again  in  chase.  Once  more  Josh 
met  him,  drove  at  his  ribs  and  got  away  out 
of  reach.  Leary 's  wind  was  going  fast,  and 
his  partisans  howled  savagely  at  Josh  — 
perceiving  his  tactics  —  taunting  him  v/ith 
running  away,  daring  him  to  stand  and 
fight.  "  I  '11  take  that  four  to  one,'*  called 
a  High  Mobsman  to  him  who  had  offered 
the  odds  in  the  beginning.  "  I  '11  stand  a 
quid  on  Perrott !" 

"  Not  with  me,  you  won't,"  the  other 
answered.      "  Evens,  if  you  like." 

"  Right.      Done  at  evens,  a  quid." 

Perrott,  stung  at  length  by  the  shouts 
from  Leary's  corner,  turned  on  Billy  and 
met  him  at  full  dash.  He  was  himself 
puffing  by  this,  though  much  less  than  his 
adversary,  and,  at  the  cost  of  a  heavy  blow 
(which  he  took  on  his  forehead),  he  visited 
Billy's  ribs  once  more. 

Both  men  were  grunting  and  gasping 
153 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

now,  and  the  sound  of  blows  was  as  of 
the  confused  beating  of  carpets.  Dicky, 
who  had  been  afflicted  to  heart-burst  by 
his  father's  dodging  and  running,  which  he 
mistook  for  simple  flight,  now  broke  into 
excited  speech  once  more: — 

"Father's  'it  'im  on  the  jore  again— 'is 
eye  's  a  bungin'  up — Go  it^  father .^  bash 
'i-i-i-mf      Father's  landin' — 'im — *e." 

Hannah  Perrott  crept  to  the  window 
and  looked.  She  saw  the  foul  Jago  mob, 
swaying  and  bellowing  about  the  shifting 
edge  of  an  open  patch,  in  the  midst  whereof 
her  husband  and  Billy  Leary,  bruised, 
bloody  and  gasping,  fought  and  battered 
infuriately;  and  she  crept  back  to  the  bed 
and  bent  her  face  on  Looey's  unclean 
little  frock;  till  a  fit  of  tense  shuddering 
took  the  child,  and  the  mother  looked  up 
again. 

Without,  the  round  ended.  For  a  full 
minute  the  men  took  and  gave  knock  for 
knock,  and  then  Leary,  wincing  from 
154 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

another  body-blow,  swung  his  right  des- 
perately on  Perrott's  ear,  and  knocked  him 
over. 

Exulting  shouts  rose  from  the  Leary 
faction,  and  the  blow  struck  Dicky's  heart 
still.  But  Josh  was  up  almost  before 
Kiddo  Cook  reached  him,  and  Dicky  saw 
a  wide  grin  on  his  face  as  he  came  to  his 
corner.  The  leathery  toughness  of  the 
man,  and  the  advantage  it  gave  him,  now 
grew  apparent.  He  had  endured  to  the 
full  as  much  and  as  hard  punching  as  had 
his  foe  —  even  more,  and  harder;  once  he 
had  fallen  on  the  broken  cobble-stones 
with  all  Leary's  weight  on  him,  and  once 
he  had  been  knocked  down  on  them.  But, 
except  for  the  sweat  that  ran  over  his  face 
and  down  his  back,  and  for  a  missing  front 
tooth  and  the  lip  it  had  cut,  he  showed 
little  sign  of  the  struggle  ;  while  Leary's 
left  eye  was  a  mere  slit  in  a  black  wen, 
his  nose  was  a  beaten  mass,  which  had 
ensanguined  him  (and  indeed  Josh)  from 
155 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

crown  to  waist,  and   his   chest  and   flanks 
were  a  mottle  of  bruises. 

"Father's  awright,  mother  —  I  see  'im 
laughin'.  An'  'e  's  smashed  Leary's  nose 
all  over  'is  face  !" 

Up  again  they  sprang  for  the  next  round, 
Perrott  active  and  daring,  Leary  cautious 
and  a  trifle  stiff.  Josh  rushed  in  and  struck 
at  the  tender  ribs  once  more,  took  two 
blows  callously  on  his  head,  and  sent  his 
left  at  the  nose,  with  a  smack  as  of  a  flail 
on  water  With  that  Leary  rushed  like  a 
bull,  and  Josh  was  driven  and  battered 
back,  for  the  moment  without  response. 
But  he  ducked  and  slipped  away  and  came 
again,  fresh  and  vicious.  And  now  it  was 
seen  that  Perrott's  toughness  of  hand  was 
lasting.  Leary's  knuckles  were  raw,  cut, 
and  flayed,  and  took  little  good  by  the 
shock  when  they  met  the  other's  stubborn 
muzzle ;  while  Josh  still  flung  in  his 
corneous  fists,  hard  and  lasting  as  a  bag 
of  bullets. 

156 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

But  suddenly,  stooping  to  reach  the 
mark  once  more,  Josh's  foot  turned  on  a 
projecting  stone,  and  he  floundered  for- 
ward into  Billy's  arms.  Like  a  flash  his 
neck  was  clipped  in  the  big  man's  left  arm 
—  Josh  Perrott  was  in  chancery.  Quick 
and  hard  Leary  pounded  the  imprisoned 
head,  while  Jerry  Gullen  and  Kiddo  Cook 
danced  distracted  and  dismayed,  and  the 
crowd  whooped  and  yelled. 

Dicky  hung  delirious  over  the  sill,  and 
shrieked  he  knew  not  what.  He  saw  his 
father  fighting  hard  at  the  back  and  ribs 
with  both  hands,  and  Leary  hammering 
his  face  in  a  way  to  make  pulp  of  an  ordi- 
nary mazzard.  Then  suddenly  Josh  Per- 
rott's  right  hand  shot  up  from  behind,  over 
Leary's  shoulder,  and  gripped  him  at  the 
chin.  Slowly,  with  tightened  muscles,  he 
forced  his  man  back  over  his  bent  knee, 
Leary  clinging  and  swaying,  but  impotent 
to  struggle.  Then  with  an  extra  wrench 
from  Josh,  up  came  Leary's  feet  from  the 
IS7 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

ground,  higher,  higher,  till  suddenly  Josh 
flung  him  heavily  over,  heels  up,  and 
dropped  on  him  with  all  his  u^eight. 

The  Ranns  roared  again.  Josh  was  up 
in  a  moment,  sitting  on  Kiddo  Cook's 
knee,  and  taking  a  drink  from  a  bottle. 
Billy  Leary  lay  like  a  man  fallen  from  a 
housetop.  His  seconds  turned  him  on 
his  back  and  dragged  him  to  his  corner. 
There  he  lay  limp  and  senseless,  and  there 
was  a  cut  at  the  back  of  his  head. 

The  High  Mobsman  who  held  the 
watch  waited  for  half  a  minute  and  then 
called  "  Time  !'*  Josh  Perrott  stood  up, 
but  Billy  Leary  was  knocked  out  of  know- 
ledge, and  heard  not.     He  was  beaten. 

Josh  Perrott  was  involved  in  a  howling, 
dancing  crowd,  and  was  pushed,  grinning, 
this  way  and  that,  slapped  on  the  back, 
and  offered  drinks.  In  the  outskirts  the 
tossers,  inveterate,  pulled  out  their  pence 
and  resumed  their  game. 

Dicky  spun  about,  laughing,  flushed, 
158 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

and  elated,  and  as  soon  as  the  door  was 
distinct  to  his  dazzled  sight,  he  ran  off 
downstairs.  His  mother,  relieved  and 
even  pleased,  speculated  as  to  what 
money  the  thing  might  bring.  She  put 
the  baby  on  the  bed,  and  looked  from  the 
window. 

Josh,  in  the  crowd,  shouted  and  beck- 
oned her,  pointing  and  tapping  his  bare 
shoulder.  He  wanted  his  clothes.  She 
gathered  together  the  shirt,  the  coat,  and 
the  waistcoat,  and  hurried  downstairs. 
Looey  could  come  to  no  harm  lying  on 
the  bed  for  a  few  minutes.  And,  indeed, 
Hannah  Perrott  felt  that  she  would  be  a 
person  of  distinction  in  the  crowd,  and 
was  not  sorry  to  have  an  excuse  for  going 
out. 

"  Three  cheers  for  the  missis  !  '*  sang 
out  Kiddo  Cook  as  she  came  through  the 
press.  "  I  said  *e'd  'ave  a  bob  or  two  for 
you,  did  n't  I  ?  " 

Josh  Perrott,  indeed,  was  rich  —  a  cap- 
159 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

italist  of  five  pounds.  For  a  sovereign  a 
side  had  been  put  up,  and  his  backer  had 
put  on  a  sovereign  for  him  at  three  to  one. 
So  that  now  it  became  him  to  stand  beer 
to  many  sympathizers.  Also,  he  felt  that 
the  missis  should  have  some  part  in  the 
celebration,  for  vi^as  it  not  her  injury  that 
he  had  avenged  on  Sally  Green's  brother? 
So  Hannah  Perrott,  pleased  but  timorous, 
w^as  hauled  away  with  the  rest  to  Mother 
Gapp's. 

Here  she  sat  by  Josh's  side  for  an  hour. 
Once  or  twice  she  thought  of  Looey,  but 
with  native  inertness  she  let  the  thought 
slip.  Perhaps  Dicky  would  be  back,  and 
at  any  rate  it  was  hard  if  she  must  not 
take  half  an  hour's  relaxation  once  in  a 
way.  At  last  came  Dicky,  urgent  per- 
plexity in  his  face,  looking  in  at  the  door. 
Josh,  minded  to  be  generous  all  round,  felt 
for  a  penny. 

'«•  Mother,"  said  Dicky,  plucking  at  her 
arm,    "  Pigeony    Poll's    at    'ome,    nussin' 
1 60 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

Looey  ;  she  told  me  to  tell  you  to  come 
at  once." 

Pigeony  Poll  ?  What  right  had  she  in 
the  room  ?  The  ghost  of  Hannah  Per- 
rott's  respectability  rose  in  resentment. 
She  supposed  she  must  go.  She  arose, 
mystified,  and  went,  with  Dicky  at  her 
skirts. 

Pigeony  Poll  sat  by  the  window  with 
the  baby  in  her  arms,  and  pale  misgiving 
in  her  dull  face.  "I  —  I  come  in,  Mrs. 
Perrott,  mum,'*  she  said,  with  a  hush  in 
her  thick  voice,  "I  come  in  'cos  I  see  you 
goin*  out,  an*  I  thought  the  baby  'd  be 
alone.  She  —  she  's  'ad  a  sort  'o  fit  —  all 
stiff  an*  blue  in  the  face  an'  grindin*  *er 
little  mouth.  She  's  left  auf  now  —  but  I 
—  I  dunno  wot  to  make  of  'er.  She  *s 
so  —  so  —  " 

Hannah  Perrott  stared  blankly,  and  lifted 

the  child,  whose  arm    dropped  and  hung. 

The  wizen  age  had   gone  from    Looey's 

face,  and  the  lids  were  down  on  the  strained 

z6i 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

eyes ;  her  pale  lips  lay  eased  of  the  old 
pinching  —  even  parted  in  a  smile.  For 
she  looked  in  the  face  of  the  angel  that 
plays  with  the  dead  children. 

Hannah  Perrott's  chin  fell.  "  Lor,"  she 
said  bemusedly,  and  sat  on  the  bed. 

An  odd  croaking  noise  broke  in  jerks 
from  Pigeony  Poll  as  she  crept  from  the 
room,  with  her  face  bowed  in  the  bend  of 
her  arm,  like  a  weeping  schoolboy.  Dicky 
stared,  confounded 

Josh  came  and  gazed  stupidly,  with 
his  mouth  open,  walking  tiptoe.  But  at 
a  word  from  Kiddo  Cook,  who  came  in 
his  tracks,  he  snatched  the  little  body  and 
clattered  off  to  the  dispensary,  to  knock  up 
the  young  student. 

The  rumour  went  in  the  Jago  that  Josh 
Perrott  was  in  double  luck.  For  here  was 
i  insurance  money  without  a  doubt.  But  in 
1  truth  that  was  a  thing  the  Perrotts  had 
1  neglected. 
1  162 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

*  5);  *  *  *  * 

Hannah  Perrott  felt  a  listless  relief; 
Josh  felt  nothing  in  particular,  except  that 
there  was  no  other  thing  to  be  done,  and 
that  Mother  Gapp's  would  be  a  cheerful 
place  to  finish  the  day  in,  and  keep  up  the 
missis's  pecker. 

So  that  eight  o'clock  that  evening  at 
Perrott's  witnessed  a  darkening  room 
wherein  an  inconsiderable  little  corpse 
lay  on  a  bed ;  while  a  small  ragamuffin 
spread  upon  it  with  outstretched  arms, 
exhausted  with  sobbing,  a  soak  of  muddy 
tears : — "  O  Looey,  Looey  !  Can  't  you 
'ear  ?  Won't  you  never  come  to  me  no 
more  ? " 

And  the  Reverend  Henry  Sturt,  walk- 
ing from  church  through  Luck  Row  toward 
his  lodgings  in  Kingsland  Road,  heard 
shouts  and  riot  behind  the  grimy  panes 
of  Mother  Gapp's,  and  in  the  midst  the 
roar  of  many  voices  joined  in  the  Jago 
chant : 

163 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

Six  bloomin*  long  months  in  a  prison^ 

Six  more  bloomin*  months  I  must  stay^ 
For  meet  in*  a  bloke  in  our  alley 
y/«'  takin^  'is  ticker  away  ! 

Toora-U — toora-il —  looral^ 
Toora-li — toora-  li  — lay^^ 
A-coshin^  a  bloke  in  our  alley^ 
An*  taking  *is  uxter  away  / 


XIV 

On  an  autumn  day,  four  years  after  his 
first  coming  to  the  Jago,  the  Reverend 
Henry  Sturt  left  a  solicitor's  office  in 
Cheapside,  and  walked  eastward  with  some- 
thing more  of  hope  and  triumph  in  him 
than  he  had  felt  since  the  Jago  fell  to  his 
charge.  For  the  ground  was  bought 
whereon  should  be  built  a  church  and 
buildings  accessory,  and  he  felt,  not  that 
he  was  like  to  see  any  great  result  from 
his  struggle,  but  that  perhaps  he  might 
pursue  it  better  armed  and  with  less  of 
grim  despair  than  had  been  his  portion 
hitherto. 

It  had  taken  him  four  years  to  gather 
the  money  for  the  site,  and  some  of  it  he 
was  paying  from  his  own  pocket.  He 
1^5 


CpCf 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

was  unmarried,  and  had  therefore  no  reason 
to  save.  Still,  he  must  be  careful,  for  the 
sake  of  the  parish  :  the  church  must  be 
built,  and  some  of  the  money  would  prob- 
ably be  wanted  for  that.  Moreover,  there 
were  other  calls.  The  benefice  brought 
a  trifle  less  than  ;^200  a  year,  and  out  of 
that,  so  far  as  it  would  go,  he  paid  (with 
some  small  outside  help)  ^130  for  rent  of 
the  temporary  church  and  the  adjacent 
rooms  ;  the  organist's  salary;  the  rates  and 
the  gas-bills ;  the  cost  of  cleaning,  care, 
and  repair;  the  sums  needed  for  such 
relief  as  was  impossible  to  be  withheld ; 
and  a  thousand  small  things  beside,  while 
the  Jagos  speculated  wildly  among  them- 
selves as  to  the  vast  sums  he  must  make 
by  his  job.  For  what  toff  would  come 
and  live  in  the  Jago  except  for  a  consider- 
ation of  solid  gain?  What  other  possible 
motive  could  there  be,  indeed  ? 

Still,  he  had   an   influence  among  them 
such   as   they  had   never    known    before. 
166 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

For  one  thing,  they  feared  in  him  what 
they  took  for  a  sort  of  supernatural  insight. 
The  mean  cunning  of  the  Jago,  subtle  as 
it  was,  and  baffling  to  most  strangers, 
foundered  miserably  before  his  relentless 
intelligence  ;  and  crafty  rogues  — '  wide 
as  Broad  Street,'  as  their  proverb  went  — 
at  first  sulked,  faltered  and  prevaricated 
transparently,  but  soon  gave  up  all  hope 
of  effort  to  deceive  him.  Thus  he  was 
respected.  Once  he  had  made  it  plain 
that  he  was  no  common  milch-cow  in  the 
matter  of  gratuities  —  to  be  bamboozled 
for  shillings,  cajoled  for  coals,  and  bullied 
for  blankets  —  then  there  became  apparent 
in  him  qualities  of  charity  and  loving- 
kindness,  well-judged  and  governed,  that  ^ 
awoke  in  places^ji  jegard  that  was  in  a  ""< 
way  akin  to  afFection.  And  the  fami- 
liar habit  of  the  Jago  slowly  grew  to  call 
him  Father  Sturt. 

Father  Sturt  was  not  to  be  overreached  : 
that  was  the   axiom  gloomily  accepted  by 
167 


A    CHILD    OF   THE  JAGO 

all  in  the  Jago  who  lived  by  what  they 
accounted  their  wits.  You  could  not  jug- 
gle shillings  and  clothing  (convertible  into 
shillings)  out  of  Father  Sturt  by  the  easy 
fee-faw-fum  of  repentance  and  salvation 
that  served  with  so  many.  There  were 
many  of  the  Jagos  (mightily  despised  by 
some  of  the  sturdier  ruffians)  who  sallied 
forth  from  time  to  time  into  neighbouring 
regions  in  pursuit  of  the  profitable  senti- 
mentalist: discovering  him  —  black-coated, 
earnest,  green  —  sometimes  a  preacher, 
sometimes  a  layman,  sometimes  one  hav- 
ing authority  on  the  committee  of  a  charit- 
able institution ;  dabbling  in  the  East  End 
on  his  own  account,  administering  relief 
for  a  mission,  disbursing  a  Mansion  House 
Fund.  He  was  of  two  chief  kinds ;  the 
Merely  Soft, —  the  '  man  of  wool '  as  the 
Jago  word  went, — for  whom  any  tale  was 
good  enough,  delivered  with  the  proper  wist- 
ful misery :  and  the  Gullible-Cocksure, 
confident  in  a  blind  experience,  who  was 
i68 


G-^ 


A   CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

quite  as  easy  to  tap,  when  approached  with 
a  becoming  circumspection.  A  rough  and 
ready  method,  which  served  well  in  most 
cases  with  both  sorts,  was  a  profession  of 
sudden  religious  awakening.  For  this,  one 
offered  an  aspect  either  of  serene  happi- 
ness or  of  maniacal  exaltation,  according 
to  the  customer*s  taste.  A  better  way, 
but  one  demanding  greater  subtlety,  was 
the  assumption  of  the  part  of  Earnest 
Inquirer,  hesitating  on  the  brink  of  Salva- 
tion. For  the  attitude  was  capable  of 
indefinite  prolongation,  and  was  ever  pro- 
ductive of  the  boots,  the  coats,  and  the 
half-crowns  used  to  coax  weak  brethren 
into  the  fold.  But  with  Father  Sturt,  such 
trouble  was  worse  than  useless ;  it  was, 
indeed,  but  to  invite  a  humiliating  snub. 
Thus,  when  Fluffy  Pike  first  came  to 
Father  Sturt  with  the  intelligence  that  he 
had  at  last  found  Grace,  the  Father  asked 
if  he  had  found  it  in  a  certain  hamper 
—  a  hamper  hooked  that  morning  from 
169 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

a  railway  van,  and  if  it  were  of  a  quality 
likely  to  inspire  an  act  of  restoration  to 
the  goods  office.  Nothing  was  to  be  done 
with  a  man  of  this  disgustingly  practical 
turn  of  mind,  and  the  Jagos  soon  ceased 
from  trying. 

Father  Sturt  had  made  more  of  the 
stable  than  the  make-shift  church  he  had 
found.  He  had  organized  a  club  in  a 
stable  adjoining,  and  he  lived  in  the  rooms 
over  the  shut-up  shop.  In  the  club  he 
gathered  the  men  of  the  Jago  indiscrim- 
inately, with  the  sole  condition  of  good 
behaviour  on  the  premises.  And  there 
they  smoked,  jumped,  swung  on  horizon- 
tal bars,  boxed,  played  at  cards  and  baga- 
telle, free  from  interference  save  when 
interference  became  necessary.  For  the 
women  there  were  sewing-meetings  and 
singing.  And  all  governed  with  an  invis- 
ible discipline,  which,  being  brought  to 
action,  was  found  to  be  of  iron. 

Now  there  was  ground  on  which  might 
170 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

be  built  a  worthier  church;  and  Father 
Sturt  had  in  mind  a  church  which  should 
have  by  its  side  a  cleanly  lodging-house,  a 
night-shelter,  a  club,  baths  and  wash- 
houses.  And  at  a  stroke  he  would  estab- 
lish this  habitation  and  wipe  out  the  black- 
est spot  in  the  Jago.  For  the  new  site 
comprised  the  whole  of  Jago  Court  and 
the  houses  that  masked  it  in  Old  Jago 
Street. 

This  was  a  dream  of  the  future — per- 
haps of  the  immediate  future,  if  a  certain 
new  millionaire  could  only  be  interested 
in  the  undertaking  —  but  of  the  future, 
certainly.  The  money  for  the  site  alone 
had  been  hard  enough  to  gather.  In  the 
first  place  the  East  London  Elevation 
Mission  and  Pansophical  Institute  was 
asking  very  diligently  for  funds  —  and  was 
getting  them.  It  was  to  that,  indeed,  that 
people  turned  by  habit  when  minded  to 
invest  in  the  amelioration  of  the  East  End. 
Then  about  this  time  there  had  arisen  a 
171 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

sudden  quacksalver,  a  Panjandrum  of  phi- 
lanthropy, a  mummer  of  the  market-place, 
who  undertook  for  a  fixed  sum,  to  abolish 
poverty  and  sin  together;  and  many, 
pleased  with  the  new  gaudery,  poured  out 
before  him  the  money  that  had  gone  to 
maintain  hospitals  and  to  feed  proved 
charities.  So  that  gifts  were  scarce  and 
hard  to  come  by — indeed,  were  apt  to  be 
thought  unnecessary,  for  was  not  misery 
to  be  destroyed  out  of  hand  ?  Moreover, 
Father  Sturt  wanted  not  for  enemies  among 
the  Sentimental-Cocksure.  He  was  cal- 
lous and  cynical  in  the  face  of  the  succulent 
penitence  of  Fluffy  Pike  and  his  kind.  He 
preferred  the  frank  rogue  before  the  cal- 
culating snivelmonger.  He  had  a  club  at 
which  boxing  was  allowed  and  dominoes 
—  flat  ungodliness.  He  shook  hands 
familiarly  every  day  with  the  lowest  char- 
acters :  his  tastes  were  vulgar  and  brutal. 
And  the  company  at  his  club  was  really 
dreadful.  These  things  the  Cocksure  said, 
172 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

with  shaking  of  heads;  and  these  they 
took  care  should  be  known  among  such  as 
might  give  Father  Sturt  money.  Father 
Sturt !  —  the  name  itself  was  sheer  papis- 
try. And  many  comforted  themselves  by 
writing  him  anonymous  letters,  displaying 
hell  before  his  eyes,  and  dealing  him  vivid 
damnation. 

So  Father  Sturt  tramped  back  to  the 
Jago,  and  to  the  strain  and  struggle  that 
ceased  not  for  one  moment  of  his  life, 
though  it  left  never  a  mark  of  success 
behind  it.  For  the  Jago  was  much  as  ever. 
Were  the  lump  once  leavened  by  the  ad- 
vent of  any  denizen  a  little  less  base  than 
the  rest,  were  a  native  once  ridiculed  and 
persuaded  into  a  spell  of  work  and  clean 
living,  then  must  Father  Sturt  hasten  to 
drive  him  from  the  Jago  ere  its  influence 
suck  him  under  forever;  leaving  for  his 
own  community  none  but  the  entirely 
vicious.  And  among  these  he  spent  his 
life  :  preaching  little,  in  the  common  sense, 
173 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

for  that  were  but  idle  vanity  in  this  place ; 
but  working,  alleviating,  growing  into  the 
Jago  life,  flinging  scorn  and  ridicule  on  evil 
things,  grateful  for  tiny  negative  successes 
—  for  keeping  a  few  from  ill-behaviour 
but  for  an  hour ;  conscious  that  wherever 
he  was  not,  iniquity  flourished  unreproved ; 
and  oppressed  by  the  remembrance  that 
albeit  the  Jago  death-rate  ruled  full  four 
times  that  of  all  London  beyond,  still  the 
Jago  rats  bred  and  bred  their  kind  unhin- 
dered, multiplying  apace  and  infecting  the 
world. 

In  Luck  Row  he  came  on  Josh  Perrott, 
making  for  home  with  something  under 
the  skirt  of  his  coat. 

"How  d'ye  do.  Josh?"  said  Father 
Sturt,  clapping  a  hand  on  Josh's  shoulder, 
and  offering  it  as  Josh  turned  about. 

Josh,  with  a  shifting  of  the  object  under 

his  coat,  hastened  to  tap  his  cap-peak  with 

his  forefinger  before  shaking  hands.      He 

grinned  broadly,  and  looked  this  way  and 

174 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

that,  with  mingled  gratification  and  em- 
barrassment, as  was  the  Jago  way  in  such 
circumstances.  Because  one  could  never 
tell  whether  Father  Sturt  would  exchange 
a  merely  friendly  sentence  or  two,  or,  with 
concealed  knowledge,  put  some  disastrous 
question  about  a  watch,  or  a  purse,  or  a 
breastpin,  or  what  not. 

"  Very  well,  thanks.  Father,"  answered 
Josh,  and  grinned  amiably  at  the  wall 
beyond  the  vicar's  elbow. 

"  And  what  have  you  been  doing  just 
lately  ?  " 

"  Oo  —  odd  jobs.  Father."  Always 
the  answer,  all  over   the  Jago. 

"  Not  quite  such  odd  jobs  as  usual,  I 
hope.  Josh,  eh  ?  "  Father  Sturt  smiled, 
and  twitched  Josh  playfully  by  the  button- 
hole as  one  might  treat  a  child.  "I  once 
heard  of  a  very  odd  job  in  the  Kingsland 
Road  that  got  a  fine  young  man  six 
months*  holiday.     Eh,  Josh  ?  '* 

Josh  Perrott  wriggled  and  grinned 
175 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

sheepishly ;  tried  to  frown,  failed,  and 
grinned  again.  He  had  only  been  out  a 
few  weeks  from  that  six  moon.  Presently 
he  said  :  "  Awright,  Father ;  you  do  rub 
it  into  a  bloke,  no  mistake." 

The  grin  persisted  as  he  looked  first  at 
the  wall,  then  at  the  pavement,  then  down 
the  street,  but  never  in  the  parson*s  face. 

"  Ah,  there  *s  a  deal  of  good  in  a  blister, 
sometimes,  is  n't  there.  Josh  ?  What 's 
that  I  see  —  a  clock  ?  Not  another  odd 
job,  eh  ?  " 

It  was,  indeed,  a  small  nickel-plated 
American  clock  which  Josh  had  under 
his  coat,  and  which  he  now  partly  un- 
covered with  positive  protests.  "  No, 
s  'elp  me.  Father,  it  *s  all  straight  —  all  fair 
trade.  Father — jist  a  swop  for  somethink 
else,  on  me  solemn  davy.  That 's  wot  it 
is,  Father —  straight !  '* 

"  Well,  I  'm  glad  you  thought  to  get 
it,  Josh,'*  Father  Sturt  pursued,  still 
twitching  the  button-hole.  "  You  never 
176 


10 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

have  been  a  punctual  churchgoer,  you 
know,  Josh,  and  I  'm  glad  you  've  made 
arrangements  to  improve.  You  *11  have 
no  excuse  novir,  you  know,  and  I  shall 
expect  you  on  Sunday  morning — promptly. 
Do  n't  forget :  I  shall  be  looking  for  you." 
And  Father  Sturt  shook  hands  again,  and 
passed  on,  leaving  Josh  Perrott  still  grin- 
ning dubiously,  and  striving  to  assimilate 
the  invitation  to  church. 

The  clock  was  indeed  an  exchange, 
though  not  altogether  an  innocent  one : 
the  facts  being  these.  Early  that  morning 
Josh  had  found  himself  scrambling  hastily 
along  a  turning  out  of  Brick  Lane,  accom- 
panied by  a  parcel  of  nine  or  ten  pounds 
of  tobacco,  and  extremely  conscious  of 
the  hasty  scrambling  of  several  other 
people  round  the  corner.  Some  of  these 
people  turned  that  corner  before  Josh 
reached  the  next,  so  that  his  course  was 
observed,  and  it  became  politic  to  get  rid 
of  his  parcel  before  a  possible  heading  off 
177 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

in  Meakin  Street.  There  was  one  place 
where  this  might  be  done,  and  that  was  at 
Weech's.  A  muddy  yard,  one  of  a  tangle 
of  such  places  behind  Meakin  Street, 
abutted  on  Weech*s  back-fence  ;  and  it 
was  no  uncommon  thing  for  a  Jago  on  the 
crook,  hard  pressed,  to  pitch  his  plunder 
over  the  fence,  double  out  into  the  crowd, 
and  call  on  Mr.  Aaron  Weech  for  the 
purchase-money  as  soon  as  opportunity 
served.  The  manoeuvre  was  a  simple  one, 
facilitated  by  the  plan  of  the  courts  ;  but 
it  was  only  adopted  in  extreme  cases, 
because  Mr.  Aaron  Weech  was  at  best 
but  a  mean  paymaster,  and  with  so  much 
of  the  upper  hand  in  the  bargain  as  these 
circumstances  conferred,  was  apt  to  be 
meaner  than  ever.  But  this  case  seemed 
to  call  for  the  stratagem,  and  Josh  made 
for  the  muddy  yard,  dropped  the  parcel 
over  the  fence,  with  a  loud  whistle,  and 
backed  off  by  the  side  passage  in  the  regular 
way. 

178 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

When  he  called  on  Mr.  Aaron  Weech 
a  few  hours  later,  that  talented  tradesman, 
with  liberal  gestures,  told  out  shillings 
singly  in  his  hand,  pausing  after  each  as 
though  that  were  the  last.  But  Josh  held 
his  hand  persistently  open  till  Mr.  Weech 
having  released  the  fifth  shilling,  stopped 
altogether,  scandalized  at  such  rapacity. 
But  still  Josh  was  not  satisfied,  and  as  he 
was  not  quite  so  easy  a  customer  to  man- 
age as  the  boys  who  commonly  fenced  at 
the  shop,  Mr.  Weech  compromised,  in  the 
end,  by  throwing  in  a  cheap  clock.  It 
had  been  in  hand  for  a  long  time ;  and  Josh 
was  fain  to  take  it,  since  he  could  get  no 
more.  And  thus  it  was  that  Dicky,  com- 
ing in  at  about  five  o'clock,  was  astonished 
to  see  on  the  mantelpiece,  amid  the  greasy 
ruins  of  many  candle-ends,  the  clock  that 
had  belonged  to  the  Ropers  four  years 
before. 


179 


XV 

As  for  Dicky,  he  went  to  school.  That 
is  to  say,  he  turned  up  now  and  again,  at 
irregular  intervals,  at  the  Board  School  just 
over  the  Jago  border  in  Honey  Lane. 
When  anything  was  given  away,  he  at- 
tended as  a  matter  of  course ;  but  he  went 
now  and  again  without  such  inducement 
—  perhaps,  because  he  fancied  an  after- 
noon's change  ;perhaps,because  the  weather 
was  cold  and  the  school  was  warm.  He 
was  classed  as  a  half-timer,  an  arrangement 
which  variegated  the  register,  but  otherwise 
did  not  matter.  Other  boys,  half-timers 
or  not,  attended  as  little  as  he.  It  was 
long  since  the  managers  had  realised  the 
futility  of  attempting  compulsion  in  the 
Jago. 

i8o 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

Dicky  was  no  fool,  and  he  had  picked  up 
some  sort  of  reading  and  writing  as  he 
went  along.  Moreover,  he  had  grown  an 
expert  thief,  and  had  taken  six  strokes  of 
a  birch-rod  by  order  of  a  magistrate.  As 
yet  he  rarely  attempted  a  pocket,  being, 
for  most  opportunities,  too  small;  but  he 
was  comforted  by  the  reflection  that  prob- 
ably he  would  never  get  really  tall,  and 
thus  grow  out  of  pocket-picking  when  he 
was  fully  experienced,  as  was  the  fate  of 
some.  For  no  tall  man  can  be  a  success- 
ful pickpocket,  b^ause  he  must  bend  to 
his  work,  and  so  advertise  it  to  every  be- 
holder. 

Meantime  Dicky  practised  that  petty 
larceny  which  is  possible  in  every  street  in 
London ;  and  at  odd  times  he  would  play 
the  scout  among  the  practitioners  of  the 
'  fat *s  a-running '  industry.  If  one  crossed 
Meakin  Street  by  way  of  Luck  Row  and 
kept  his  way  among  the  courts  ahead,  he 
presently  reached  the  main  Bethnal  Green 
i8i 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

Road,  at  the  end  whereof  stood  the  great 
goods  depot  of  a  railway  company.  Here 
carts  and  vans  went  to  and  fro  all  day, 
laden  with  goods  from  the  depot,  and 
certain  gangs  among  the  Jagos  preyed  on 
these  continually.  A  quick-witted  scout 
stood  on  the  look-out  for  such  vehicles  as 
went  with  unguarded  tailboards.  At  the 
approach  of  one  such  he  sent  the  shout 
^  Fat^s  a-runnin'f*  up  Luck  Row,  and, 
quick  at  the  signal,  a  gang  scuttled  down, 
by  the  court  or  passage  which  his  waved 
hand  might  hint  at,  seized  whatever  could 
be  snatched  from  the  cart,  and  melted 
away  into  the  courts,  sometimes  leaving  a 
few  hands  behind  to  hinder  and  misdirect 
pursuit.  Taking  one  capture  with  another, 
the  thing  paid  very  well ;  and  besides  there 
were  many  vans  laden  with  parcels  of  to- 
bacco, not  from  the  railway  depot  but  from 
the  tobacco  factories  hard  by,  a  click  from 
which  was  apt  to  prove  especially  lucra- 
tive. Dicky  was  a  notable  success  as 
1S2 


A  CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

scout.  The  department  was  a  fairly  safe 
one,  but  it  was  not  always  easy  to  extract 
from  the  gang  the  few  coppers  that  were 
regarded  as  sufficient  share  for  service  done. 
Moreover,  Mr.  Weech  was  not  pleased ; 
for  by  now  Dicky  was  near  to  being  his  most 
remunerative  client,  and  the  cart  robberies 
counted  nothing,  for  the  fat's  a-running 
boys  fenced  their  swag  with  a  publican  at 
Hoxton.  And  though  Dicky  had  grown 
out  of  his  childish  belief  that  Mr.  Weech 
could  hear  a  mile  away  and  see  through  a 
wall,  he  had  a  cautious  dread  of  the  weapon 
he  supposed  to  lie  ever  to  his  patron's 
hand  —  betrayal  to  the  police.  In  other 
respects  things  were  easier.  His  father 
took  no  heed  of  what  he  did,  and  even  his 
mother  had  so  far  accepted  destiny  as  to 
ask  if  he  had  a  copper  or  two,  when  there 
was  a  scarcity.  Indeed,  Hannah  Perrott 
filled  her  place  in  the  Jago  better  than 
of  old.  She  would  gossip,  she  drew  no 
very  rigid  line  as  to  her  acquaintance,  and 
183 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

Dicky  had  seen  her  drunk.  Still,  for  Old 
Jago  Street  she  was  a  quiet  woman,  and 
she  never  brawled  nor  fought.  Of  fight- 
ing, indeed,  Josh  could  do  enough  for  the 
whole  family,  once  again  four  in  number. 
For  the  place  of  Looey,  forgotten,  was 
supplied  by  Em,  aged  two. 

When  Dicky  came  home  and  recognised 
the  clock  on  the  mantelpiece,  being  the 
more  certain  because  his  mother  told  him 
it  had  come  from  Weech's,  the  thing  irri- 
tated him  strangely.  Through  all  those 
four  years  since  he  had  carried  that  clock 
to  Mr.  Weech,  he  had  never  got  rid  of  the 
wretched  hunchback.  He,  too,  went  to 
the  Board  School  in  Honey  Lane  (it  lay 
between  Dove  Lane  and  the  Jago),  but  he 
went  regularly,  worked  hard,  and  was  a 
favourite  with  teachers.  So  far,  Dicky 
was  unconcerned.  But  scarce  an  ill  chance 
came  to  him  but,  sooner  or  later,  he  found 
the  hunchback  at  the  back  of  it.  If  ever 
a  teacher  mysteriously  found  out  that  it 
184 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

was  Dicky  who  had  drawn  his  portrait,  all 
nose  and  teeth,  on  the  blackboard,  the  tale 
had  come  from  Bobby  Roper.  Whenever 
Dicky,  chancing  upon  school  by  ill  luck 
on  an  afternoon  when  sums  were  to  be 
done,  essayed  to  copy  answers  from  his 
neighbour's  slate,  up  shot  the  hunchback's 
hand  in  an  instant,  the  tale  was  told,  and 
banders  were  Dicky's  portion.  Once, 
dinnerless  and  hungry,  he  had  stolen  a 
sandwich  from  a  teacher's  desk;  and, 
though  he  had  thought  himself  alone  and 
unseen,  the  hunchback  knew  it,  and  pointed 
him  out,  white  malice  in  his  thin  face  and 
eager  hate  in  his  thrust  finger.  For  a  fort- 
night Dicky  dared  not  pass  a  little  fruit  shop 
in  Meakin  street,  because  of  an  attempt 
on  an  orange,  betrayed  by  his  misshapen 
schoolfellow,  which  brought  him  a  hard 
chase  from  the  fruiterer  and  a  bad  bruise 
on  the  spine  from  a  board  flung  after  him. 
The  hunchback's  whole  energies  —  even  his 
whole  time  —  seemed  to  be  devoted  to 
iSs 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

watching  him.  Dicky,  on  his  part,  received 
no  injuries  meekly.  In  the  beginning  he  had 
tried  threats  and  public  jeers  at  his  enemy's 
infirmity.  Then,  on  some  especially  ex- 
asperating occasion,  he  pounded  Bobby 
Roper  savagely  about  the  head  and  cap- 
sized him  into  a  mud-heap.  But  bodily 
reprisal, though  he  erected  it  into  a  practice, 
proved  no  deterrent.  For  the  little  hunch- 
back, though  he  might  cry  at  the  pummel- 
ling, retorted  with  worse  revenge  of  his  own 
sort.  And,  once  or  twice,  bystanders, 
seeing  a  deformed  child  thus  treated,  in- 
terfered with  clouts  on  Dicky's  ears.  The 
victim,  moreover,  designed  another  re- 
taliation. He  would  go  to  some  bigger 
boy  with  a  tale  that  Dicky  had  spoken 
vauntingly  of  fighting  him  and  beating 
him  hollow,  with  one  hand.  This  brought 
the  big  boy  after  Dicky  at  once,  with 
a  hiding:  except  on  some  rare  occa- 
sion when  the  hunchback  rated  his  instru- 
ment of  vengeance  too  high,  and  Dicky 
1 86 


A   CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

was  able  to  beat  him  in  truth.  But  this 
was  a  very  uncommon  mistake,  and  after 
this  Dicky  did  not  wait  for  specific  provo- 
cation :  he  '  clumped  *  Bobby  Roper,  or 
rolled  him  in  the  gutter,  as  a  matter  of 
principle,  whenever  he  could  get  hold  of 
him. 

That  afternoon  Dicky  had  suffered  again. 
Two  days  earlier  tea  and  cake  had  been 
provided  by  a  benevolent  manager  for  all 
who  attended  the  school.  Consequently 
the  attendance  was  excellent,  and  included 
Dicky.  But  his  attempt  to  secrete  a 
pocketful  of  cake,  to  carry  home  for  Em, 
was  reported  by  Bobby  Roper ;  and  Dicky 
was  hauled  forth,  deprived  of  his  plunder, 
and  expelled  in  disgrace.  He  waited  out- 
side and  paid  off  the  score  fiercely,  by  the 
help  of  a  very  long  and  pliant  cabbage 
stalk.  But  this  afternoon  Bill  Bates,  a 
boy  a  head  taller  than  himself  and  two 
years  older,  had  fallen  on  him  suddenly  in 
Lincoln  Street,  and,  though  Dicky  fought 
187 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

desperately  and  kicked  with  much  effect, 
had  dealt  him  a  thrashing  that  left  him 
bruised,  bleeding,  dusty,  and  crying  with 
rage  and  pain.  This  was  the  hunchback's 
doing,  without  a  doubt.  Dicky  limped 
home,  but  was  something  comforted  by  an 
accident  in  Shoreditch  High  Street,  whereby 
a  coster*s  barrow-load  of  cough-drops  was 
knocked  over  by  a  covered  van,  and  the 
cough-drops  were  scattered  in  the  mud. 
For  while  the  carman  and  the  coster  flew 
at  each  other's  name  and  address,  and  de- 
famed each  other's  eyes  and  mother,  Dicky 
gathered  a  handful  of  cough-drops,  muddy, 
it  is  true,  but  easy  to  wipe.  And  so  he 
made  for  home  more  cheerfully  disposed  : 
till  the  sight  of  the  Ropers'  old  clock 
brought  the  hunchback  to  mind  once  more, 
and,  in  bitter  anger,  he  resolved  to  search 
for  him  forthwith,  and  pass  on  the  after- 
noon's hiding,  with  interest. 

As  he  emerged   into  the  street,  a  hand 
was  reached  to  catch  him,  which  he  dodged 
1 88 


A   CHILD    OF  THE   JAGO 

by  instinct.  He  rushed  back  upstairs,  and 
emptied  his  pockets,  stowing  away  in  a 
safe  corner  the  rest  of  the  cough-drops, 
the  broken  ruin  he  called  his  knife,  some 
buttons  and  pieces  of  string,  a  bit  of 
chalk,  three  little  pieces  of  slate-pencil, 
and  two  marbles.  Then  he  went  down 
again  into  the  street,  confident  in  his 
destitution,  and  watched,  forgetting  the 
hunchback  in  the  excitement  of  the  spec- 
tacle. 

The  loafers  from  the  corners  had  con- 
ceived a  sudden  notion  of  co-operation, 
and  had  joined  forces  to  the  array  of  twenty 
or  thirty.  Confident  in  their  numbers, 
they  swept  the  street,  stopping  every  pas- 
senger—  man,  woman,  or  child  —  and 
emptying  all  pockets.  A  straggler  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  crowd,  a  hobbledehoy  like 
most  of  the  rest,  had  snatched  at,  but  had 
lost  Dicky,  and  was  now  busy,  with  four 
or  five  others,  rolling  a  woman,  a  strug- 
gling heap  of  old  clothes  and  skinny  limbs, 
189 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

in  the  road.  It  was  Biddy  Flynn,  too  old 
and  worn  for  anything  but  honest  work, 
who  sold  oranges  and  nuts  from  a  basket, 
and  who  had  been  caught  on  her  way  out 
for  her  evening's  trade  in  High  Street. 
She  was  a  fortunate  capture,  being  a  lone 
woman  with  all  her  possessions  about  her. 
Under  her  skirt,  and  tied  round  her  waist 
with  string,  she  kept  her  money-bag  ;  and 
it  was  soon  found  and  dragged  away, 
yielding  two  and  eightpence  farthing  and  a 
lucky  shoe-tip,  worn  round  and  bright. 
She  had,  moreover,  an  old  brass  brooch  ; 
but  unfortunately  her  wedding-ring,  worn 
to  pin-wire,  could  not  be  got  past  the  knot- 
ted knuckle  —  though  it  would  have  been 
worth  little  in  any  case.  So  Biddy  Flynn, 
exhausted  with  plunging  and  screaming, 
was  left,  and  her  empty  basket  was  flung 
at  her.  She  staggered  away,  wailing  and 
rolling  her  head,  with  her  hand  to  the  wall ; 
and  the  gang,  sharing  out,  sucked  oranges 
with  relish,  and  turned  to  fresh  exploits. 
190 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

Dicky  watched  from  the  Jago  Court  pas- 
sage. 

Business  slackened  for  a  little  while, 
and  the  loafers  were  contemplating  a  raid 
in  force  on  Mother  Gapp's  till,  when  a 
grown  lad  ran  in  pell-mell  from  Luck  Row 
with  a  square  parcel  clipped  under  his  arm 
—  a  parcel  of  aspect  well  known  among 
the  fat's  a-running  boys — a  parcel  that 
meant  tobacco.     He  was  collared  at  once. 

"  Stow  it,  Bill !  "  he  cried,  breathlessly, 
recognizing  his  captor.  "  The  bloke  's 
a-comin'  !  " 

But  half-a-dozen  hands  were  on  his 
plunder,  it  was  snatched  away,  and  he  was 
flung  back  on  the  flags.  There  was  a 
clatter  on  the  stones  of  Luck  Row,  and  a 
light  van  came  rattling  into  Old  Jago 
Street,  the  horse  galloping,  the  carman 
lashing  and  shouting :  "Stop  'im  !  Stop 
thief!" 

The  sight  was  so  novel  that  for  a  mo- 
ment the  gang  merely  stared  and  grinned. 
191 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

This  man  must  be  a  greenhorn  —  new  to 
the  neighborhood  —  to  venture  a  load  of 
goods  up  Luck  Row.  And  it  was  tobacco, 
too.  He  was  pale  and  flustered,  and  he 
called  wildly,  as  he  looked  this  way  and 
that :  "  A  man  *s  stole  somethin'  auf  my 
van.     Where  's  'e  gawn  ?  " 

"  No  good,  guv'nor,'*  cried  one.  "  The 
ball's  stopped  rollin'.    You  Ve  lawst  'im." 

"  My  Gawd  ! "  said  the  man,  in  a 
sweat,  "  I  'm  done.  There  's  two  quid's 
worth  o*  bacca  —  an'  I  on'y  got  the  job 
o'  Monday  —  bin  out  nine  munse  !  " 

"  Was  it  a  parcel  like  this  'ere  ?  "  asked 
another,  chuckling,  and  lifting  a  second 
packet  over  the  tailboard. 

"  Yus —  put  it  down  !  Gawd — wotcher 
up  to.?     'Ere— 'elp!    'elp  !  " 

The  gang  were  over  the  van,  guffawing 
and  flinging  out  the  load.  The  carman 
yelled  aloud,  and  fought  desperately  with 
his  whip —  Bill  Hanks  is  near  blind  of  an 
eye  now  from  one  cut :  but  he  was  the 
193 


A  CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

worse  for  it.  For  he  was  knocked  off  the 
van  in  a  heap,  and,  as  he  lay,  they  cleared 
his  pockets,  and  pulled  off  his  boots ; 
those  that  had  caught  the  sting  of  the  whip 
kicking  him  about  the  head  till  it  but 
shifted  in  the  slime  at  the  stroke,  an  inani- 
mate lump. 

There  was  talk  of  how  to  deal  with  the 
horse  and  van.  To  try  to  sell  them  was 
too  large  a  job,  and  too  risky.  So,  as  it 
was  growing  dusk,  the  senseless  carman 
was  put  on  the  floor  of  the  van,  the  tail- 
board was  raised,  and  one  of  the  gang  led 
I  the  horse  away,  to  lose  the  whole  thing  in 
I  the  busy  streets. 

}  Here  was  a  big  haul,  and  many  of  the 
I  crowd  busied  themselves  in  getting  it  out  of 
1  sight,  and  scouting  out  among  the  fences  to 
i  arrange  sales.  Those  who  remained  grew 
'  less  active,  and  hung  at  the  corner  of  Luck 
Row,  little  more  than  an  ordinary  corner- 
I  group  of  loafers. 

'       Then  Dicky   remembered    the    hunch- 
193 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

back,  and  slouched  ofF  to  Dove  Lane. 
But  he  could  see  nothing  of  Bobby  Roper. 
The  Jago  and  Dove  Lane  were  districts 
ever  at  feud,  active  or  smouldering,  save 
for  brief  intervals  of  ostentatious  recon- 
ciliation, serving  to  render  the  next  attack 
on  Dove  Lane  the  more  savage  —  for  in- 
variably the  Jagos  were  aggressors  and 
victors.  Dicky  was  careful  in  his  lurkings, 
therefore,  lest  he  should  be  recognized 
and  set  upon  by  more  Dove  Lane  boys 
than  would  be  convenient.  He  knew 
where  the  Ropers  lived,  and  he  went  and 
hung  about  the  door.  Once  he  fancied 
he  could  hear  a  disjointed  tinkle,  as  of  a 
music-box  grown  infirm,  but  he  was  not 
sure  of  it.  And  in  the  end  he  contented 
himself,  for  the  present,  with  flinging  a 
stone  through  the  Ropers'  window,  and 
taking  to  his  heels. 

The  Jago  was  black  with  night,  the  rats 
came    and   went,    and    the    cosh-carriers 


194 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

lurked  on  landings.  On  a  step,  Pigeony 
Poll,  drunk  because  of  a  little  gin  and  no 
food,  sang  hideously  and  wept.  The 
loafers  had  dispersed  to  spend  their  after- 
noon's makings.  The  group  which  Dicky 
had  left  by  Luck  Row  corner,  indeed,  had 
been  discouraged  early  in  the  evening  in 
consequence  of  an  attempt  at  "  turning 
over  "  old  Beveridge,  as  he  unsuspectingly 
stalked  among  them,  in  from  his  city  round. 
For  the  old  man  whipped  out  his  case- 
knife  and  drove  it  into  the  flesh  of  Nobber 
Sugg's  arm,  at  the  shoulder  —  stabbed,  too, 
at  another,  and  ripped  his  coat.  So  Nob- 
ber Sugg,  with  blood  streaming  through 
his  sleeve,  went  off  with  two  more  to  tie 
up  the  arm  ;  and  old  Beveridge,  grinning 
and  mumbling  fiercely,  strode  about  the 
street,  knife  in  hand,  for  ten  minutes,  ere 
he  grew  calm  enough  to  go  his  way.  This 
Tommy  Rann  told  Dicky,  sitting  in  the 
back-yard  and  smoking    a    pipe ;     a  pipe 


195 


A   CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

charged  with  tobacco  pillaged  from  a  tin- 
full  which  his  father  had  bought,  at  about 
fourpence  a  pound,  from  a  loafer.  And 
both  boys  crawled  indoors  deadly  sick. 


XVI 

Josh  Perrott  was  at  church  on  Sunday 
morning,  as  Father  Sturt  had  bid  him.  Not 
because  of  the  bidding,  but  because  the 
vicar  overtook  him  and  Kiddo  Cook  in 
Meakin  Street,  and  hauled  them  in,  pro- 
fessing to  be  much  gratified  at  their  punc- 
tuality, and  charging  them  never  to  fall 
away  from  the  habit.  The  two  Jagos, 
with  dubious  grins,  submitted  as  they 
must,  and  were  in  a  little  while  surprised 
to  find  others  arriving,  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances never  suspected  of  church-going. 
The  fact  was,  that  Father  Sturt,  by  dint  of 
long  effort,  had  so  often  brought  so  many 
to  his  stable-church,  as  he  had  now  brought 
Josh  and  Kiddo,  that  the  terrors  and  em- 
barrassments of  the  place  had  worn  ofF, 
197 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

and  many,  finding  nothing  more  attractive 
elsewhere,  would  make  occasional  attend- 
ances of  their  own  motion.  Wet  Sundays, 
particularly,  inclined  them  to  church : 
where  there  might  be  a  fire,  where  at  least 
there  was  a  clean  room,  with  pictures  on 
the  walls,  where  there  were  often  flowers, 
where  there  was  always  music,  and  where 
Father  Sturt  made  an  address  of  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  which  nobody  ever  suspected 
of  being  a  sermon ;  an  address^which  one 
might  doze  over  or  listen  to,  as  one  might 
be  disposed  J  but  which  most  listened  to, 
more  or  less,  partly  because  of  an  uneasy 
feeling  that  Father  Sturt  would  know  if 
they  did  not,  and  partly  because  it  was  very 
easy  to  understand,  was  not  oppressively 
minatory,  was  spoken  with  an  intimate 
knowledge  of  themselves,  and  was,  indeed, 
something  of  a  refreshing  novelty,  being 
the  simple  talk  of  a  gentleman. 

Josh  Perrott  and  Kiddo  Cook  were  not 
altogether  sorry  they  had  come.     It  was  a 
198 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

rest.  Stable  though  it  had  been,  they  had 
never  sat  in  so  pleasant  a  room  before. 
There  was  nothing  to  do,  no  constant 
watch  to  be  kept,  no  police  to  avoid,  and 
their  wits  had  a  holiday.  They  forgot 
things^^^  Their  courage  never  rose  so  high 
as  to  build  the  thought;  but,  in  truth,  pipes 
would  have  made  them  happy. 

The  address  being  done,  Father  Sturt 
announced  the  purchase  of  the  site  for  the 
new  church,  and  briefly  described  his 
scheme.  He  would  give  tenants  good 
notice,  he  said,  before  the  houses  were 
destroyed.  Meantime,  they  must  pay 
rent  j  though  most  of  the  amounts  would 
be  reduced. 

And  after  the  benediction  Father  Sturt, 
from  his  window  over  the  closed  shop, 
saw  Josh  Perrott  and  Kiddo  Cook  guffaw- 
ing and  elbowing  one  another  up  Luck 
Row.  Each  was  accusing  the  other  of 
having  tried   to  sing. 


199 


XVII 

There  was  much  talk  of  Father  Start's 
announcement.  Many  held  it  a  shame 
that  so  much  money,  destined  for  the  ben- 
efit of  the  Jago,  should  be  spent  in  bricks 
and  mortar,  instead  of  being  distributed 
among  themselves.  They  fell  to  calcu- 
lating the  price  of  the  land  and  houses, 
and  to  working  it  out  laboriously  in  the 
denomination  of  pots  and  gallons.  More: 
it  was  felt  to  be  a  grave  social  danger  th^^ 
Jago  Court  should  be  extinguished.  What 
would  become  of  the  Jago  without  Jago 
Court  ?  Where  would  Sunday  morning 
be  spent  ?  Where  would  the  fights  come 
off,  and  where  was  so  convenient  a  place 
for  pitch  and  toss  ?  But  mainly  they 
feared    the    police.     Jago   Court  was    an 


j 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

unfailing  sanctuary,  a  city  of  refuge  ever 
ready,  ever  secure.  There  were  times 
when  two  or  three  of  the  police,  hot  in 
the  chase,  would  burst  into  the  Jago  at  the 
heels  of  a  flying  marauder.  Then  the 
run  away  would  make  straight  for  the  arch-  ^  , 

way,  and,  orLC£_Jie__wa^J.ri..  Jiiga  Cqu^^  ^, 

danger  was  over.  For  he  had  only  to  run 
into  one  of  the  ever-open  doors  at  right 
or  left,  and  out  into  back-yards  and  other 
houses  ;  or,  better,  to  scramble  over  the 
low  fence  opposite,  through  the  back  door 
before  him,  and  so  into  New  Jago  Street, 
Beyond  the  archway  the  police  could  not 
venture,  excepFin  large  companies.  A 
young  constable  who  tried  it  once,  getting 
ahead  of  two  companions  in  his  ardour, 
was  laid  low  as  he  emerged  from  the  pas- 
sage, by  a  fire-grate  adroitly  let  drop  from 
an  upper  window. 

The  blotting  out  of  such  a  God-send  of 
a  place  as  this  would  be  a  calamity.  The 
Jago  would  never  be  the  same  again.     As 

20I 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

it  was,  the  Old  Jago  was  a  very  convenient, 
comfortable  sort  of  place,  they  argued. 
They  could  not  imagine  themselves  living 
anywhere  else.  But,  assuredly,  it  would 
be  the  Jago  no  longer  without  Jago  Court. 
And  this  thing  was  to  be  done,  too,  with 
money  got  together  for  their  benefit !  The 
sole  explanation  the  Jago  could  supply 
was  the  one  that,  at  last,  with  arithmetical 
variations,  prevailed. 

The    landlords   were  to  be  paid  a  sum 
(varying  in  Jago  estimation  from  a  hundred 
pounds    to    a    hundred    thousand)  for  the 
houses  and  the  grounds,  and  of  this   they 
were  secretly  to  return  to   Father  Sturt  a 
certain  share  (generally  agreed  on  as  half), 
I  as   his   private  fee  for  bringing   about  so 
'desirable  a  transaction.     Looked   at   from 
\all  points,  this  appeared   to   be   the  most 
plausible  explanation  :    for  no  other  could 
reasonably  account  for  Father  Sturt'^s  ac- 
tivity.    No  wonder  he  could  afFord  to  rc;^ 
duce   some   of  the  rents  I     Was   he    not 
202 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

already  Receiving  princely  wages  (variously 
supposed  to  be  something  from  ten  pounds 
to  thirty  pounds  a  week)  from  the  Govern- 
ment, for  preaching  every  Sunday  ? 

Still  the  rents  were  to  Be  reduced  :  that 
was  the  immediate  consideration,  and  noth- 
ing but  an  immediate  consideration  carried 
weight  in  the  Jago,  where  a  shilling  to-day 
was  to  be  preferred  to  a  constant  income 
beginning  in  a  month's  time.  The  first 
effect  of  the  announcement  was  a  rush  of 
applications  for  rooms  in  the  doomed 
houses,  each  applicant  demanding  to  be 
accommodated  by  the  eviction  of  some- 
body already  established,  but  now  dis- 
interestedly discovered  to  be  a  bad  tenant. 
They  were  all  disappointed,  but  the  resi- 
dents had  better  luck  than  they  had  hoped. 
For  the  unexpected  happened,  and  the 
money  for  a  part  of  the  new  buildings  was 
suddenly  guaranteed.  Wherefore  Father 
Sturt,  knowing  that  many  would  be  hard 
put  to  it  to  find  shelter  when  the  houses 
203 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

came  down,  and  guessing  that  rents  would 
rise  with  the  demand,  determined  to  ask 
none  for  the  little  while  the  tenements 
endured.  Scarce  had  he  made  his  decision 
known  ere  he  regretted  it,  popular  as  it 
was.  For  he  reflected  that  the  money 
saved  would  merely  melt,  and  that  at  the 
inevitable  turning  out,  not  a  soul  would  be 
the  better  off  for  the  relief,  but  indeed 
might  find  it  harder  than  ever  to  pay  rent 
after  the  temporary  easement.  It  would 
have  been  better  rigidly  to  exact  the  rent, 
and  return  it  in  lump  to  each  tenant  as 
he  left.  The  sum  would  have  been  an 
inducement  to  leave  peaceably  —  a  matter 
in  which  trouble  was  to  be  expected.  But 
then,  what  did  any  windfall  of  shillings 
bring  in  the  Jago  ?  What  but  a  drunk  ? 
This  was  one  of  Father  Sturt's  thousand 
perplexities,  and  he  could  but  hope  that, 
perhaps,  he  had  done  right,  after  all. 

The  old    buildings  were  sold,  as  they 
stood,  to  the  house-wreckers,  and  on  the 
204 


A   CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

house-wreckers  devolved  the  work  of  get- 
ting the  lodgers  out.  For  weeks  the  day 
was  deferred,  but  It  drew  very  near  at  last, 
and  a  tall  hoarding  was  put  up.  Next 
morning  it  had  vanished,  but  there  was  a 
loud  crackling  where  the  Jagos  boiled  their 
pots.  Dicky  Perrott  and  Tommy  Rann 
had  a  bonfire  in  Edge  Lane  ;  and  Jerry 
Gullen's  canary  sweated  abroad  before  a 
heavy  load  of  cheap  firewood. 

Then  Josh  Perrott  and  Billy  Leary,  his 
old  enemy,  were  appointed  joint  guardians 
of  the  new  hoarding,  each  to  get  half-a- 
crown  on  every  morning  when  the  fence  was 
found  intact.  And  in  the  end  there  came 
eviction  day,  and  once  more  the  police 
held  the  Jago  in  force,  escorting  gangs  of 
men  with  tumbrils. 

As  for  the  Perrotts,  they  could  easily 
find  another  room,  at  the  high  rent  always 
charged  for  the  privilege  of  residence  in 
the  Jago.  To  have  remained  in  one  room 
four  or  five  years,  and  to  have  paid  rent 
205 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

with  indifferent  good  regularity  was  a  feat 
sufficiently  rare  to  be  notorious,  and  to 
cause  way  to  be  made  for  them  wherever 
a  room  was  falling  vacant  or  could  be 
emptied.  They  went  no  farther  than 
across  the  way,  to  a  room  wherein  a  widow 
had  died  over  her  sack-making  two  days 
before,  and  had  sat  on  the  floor  with  her 
head  between  her  knees  for  hours,  while 
her  children,  not  understanding,  cried  that 
they  were  hungry.  These  children  were 
now  gone  to  the  work-house  :  more  for- 
tunate than  the  many  they  left  behind. 
And  the  room  was  a  very  fair  one,  ten  feet 
square  or  so. 

The  rest  of  the  tenants  thought  not  at 
all  of  new  quarters,  and  did  nothing  to 
find  them,  till  they  found  themselves  and 
their  belongings  roofless  in  Old  Jago 
Street.  Then  with  one  accord  they  de- 
manded lodgings  of  the  vicar.  Most  of 
them  had  never  inhabited  any  rooms  so 
long  as  they  had  these  which  they  must 
206 


A     CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

now  leave — having  been  ejected  again 
and  again  because  of  unpaid  rent.  Nev- 
ertheless, they  clamoured  for  redress,  as 
they  might  have  clamoured  had  they  never 
changed  dwellings  in  their  lives. 

Nobody  resisted  the  police;  for  there  were 
too  many  of  them.  Moreover,  Father  Sturt 
was  there  and  few  had  hardihood  for  any 
but  their  best  behaviour  in  his  presence. 
Still,  there  were  disputes  among  the  Jagos 
themselves,  that  sometimes  came  very  near 
to  fights.  Ginger  Stagg's  missis  professed 
to  recognize  a  long-lost  property  in  a  tin 
kettle  brought  into  the  outer  air  among  the 
belongings  of  Mrs.  Walsh.  The  miscel- 
laneous rags  and  sticks  that  were  Cocko 
Harnwell's  household  goods  got  mingled 
in  the  roadway  with  those  appertaining  to 
the  Fishers  ;  and  their  assortment  without 
a  turn  of  family  combat  was  a  task  which 
tried  the  vicar's  influence  to  the  utmost. 
Mrs.  RafFerty,  too,  was  suspected  of  undue 
pride  in  a  cranky  deal  wash-stand,  and 
207 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

thereby  of  a  disposition  to  sneer  at  the 
humbler  turn-out  of  the  Regans  from  the 
next  floor  :  giving  occasion  for  a  shrill  and 
animated  row. 

The  weather  was  dry,  fortunately,  and 
the  evicted  squatted  in  the  roadway,  by 
their  heaps,  or  on  them,  squabbling  and 
lamenting.  Ginger  Stagg  having  covered 
certain  crockery  with  the  old  family  mat- 
tress, forgetfully  sat  on  it,  and  came  upon 
Father  Sturt  with  an  indignant  demand  for 
compensation. 

Father  Sturt's  efforts  to  stimulate  a  search 
for  new  lodgings  met  with  small  success  at 
first.  It  was  felt  that,  no  doubt,  there 
were  lodgings  to  be  had,  but  they  would 
be  open  to  the  fatal  objection  of  costing 
something ;  and  the  Jago  temperament 
could  neither  endure  nor  understand  pay- 
ment for  what  had  once  been  given  for 
nothing.  Father  Sturt,  the  Jagos  argued, 
had  given  them  free  quarters  for  so  long; 
why  should  he  stop  now  ?  If  they 
208 


A  CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

cleared  out  in  order  to  make  room  for  his 
new  church,  in  common  fairness  he  should 
find  them  similar  lodgings  on  the  same 
terms.  So  they  sat  and  waited  for  him  to 
do  it. 

At  length  the  vicar  set  to  work  with 
them  in  good  earnest,  carried  away  with 
him  a  family  or  two  at  a  time,  and  inducted 
them  to  rooms  of  his  own  finding.  And 
hereat  others,  learning  that  in  these  cases, 
rent  in  advance  was  exacted,  bestirred 
themselves  :  reflecting  that  if  rent  must  be 
paid,  they  might  as  well  choose  their  own 
rooms  as  take  those  that  Father  Sturt  might 
find.  Of  course  the  thing  was  not  done 
without  payments  from  the  vicar's  pocket. 
Some  were  wholly  destitute  ;  others  could 
not  muster  enough  to  pay  that  advance  of 
rent  which  alone  could  open  a  Jago  ten- 
ancy. Distinguishing  the  genuine  impe- 
cuniosity  from  the  merely  professed,  with 
the  insight  that  was  now  a  sixth  sense  with 
him.  Father  Sturt  helped  sparingly  and  in 
209 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

secret ;  for  a  precedent  of  almsgiving  was 
an  evil  thing  in  the  Jago,  confirming  the 
shiftlessness  which  was  already  a  piece  of 
Jago  nature,  and  setting  up  long  affliction 
for  the  almsgiver.  Enough  of  such  pre- 
cedents existed ;  and  the  inevitable  addi- 
tions thereto  were  a  work  of  anxious  re- 
sponsibility and  jealous  care. 

So  the  bivouacs  in  Old  Jago  Street  melted 
away.  For  one  thing,  there  were  those 
among  the  dispossessed  who  would  not 
waste  time  in  unproductive  inactivity  just 
then  ;  for  war  had  arisen  in  Dove  Lane, 
and  spoils  were  going.  Dove  Lane  was 
no  very  reputable  place,  but  it  was  not  like 
the  Jago.  In  the  phrase  of  the  district, 
the  Dove  Laners  were  pretty  thick,  but 
the  Jagos  were  thick  as  glue.  There  were 
many  market-porters  among  the  Dove 
Laners,  and  at  this,  their  prosperous  season, 
they  and  their  friends  resorted  to  a  shop 
in  Meakin  Street,  kept  by  an  "  ikey " 
tailor,  there  to  buy  the  original  out-and-oun 

2IO 


i 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

downy  benjamins,  or  the  celebrated  bang- 
up  kicksies,  cut  saucy,  with  artful  buttons 
and  a  double  fakement  down  the  sides, 
and  hereabout  they  were  apt  to  be  set  upon 
by  Jagos ;  overthrown  by  superior  num- 
bers ;  bashed ;  and  cleaned  out.  Or,  if 
the  purchases  had  been  made,  they  were 
flimped  of  their  kicksies,  benjies  or  daisies, 
as  the  case  might  be.  So  that  a  fight  with 
Dove  Lane  might  be  an  affair  of  some 
occasional  profit ;  and  it  became  no  loyal 
Jago  to  idle  in   the  stronghold. 

Father  Sturt's  task  was  nearly  over, 
when,  returning  to  Old  Jago  Street  he  saw 
Dicky  Perrott  sitting  by  a  still-remaining 
heap  —  a  heap  small  and  poor  even  among 
those  others.  The  Perrotts  had  been 
decorously  settled  in  their  new  home  since 
early  morning;  but  here  was  Dicky, 
guarding  a  heap  with  a  baby  on  it,  and 
absorbed  in  the  weaving  of  rush-bags. 

"That's  right,  Dicky,  my  boy,''  said 
Father  Sturt,  in  the  approving  voice  that 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

a  Jago  would  do  almost  anything  —  ex- 
cept turn  honest  —  to  hear.  And  Dicky, 
startled,  looked  up,  flushed  and  happy, 
over  his  shoulder. 

"  Rush-bags,  eh  ?  "  the  vicar  went  on, 
stooping  and  handing  Dicky  another  rush 
from  the  heap.     "  And  whose  are  they  ?  " 

The  bags,  the  rushes,  the  heap,  and  the 
baby  belong  to  Mrs.  Bates,  the  widow, 
who  was  now  in  search  of  a  new  room. 
Dicky  had  often  watched  the  weaving  of 
fishmongers'  frails,  and,  since  it  was  work 
in  which  he  had  had  no  opportunity  of 
indulging,  it  naturally  struck  him  as  a 
fascinating  pastime.  So  that  he  was  de- 
lighted by  the  chance  which  he  had  taken, 
and  Mrs.  Bates,  for  her  part,  was  not  sorry 
to  find  somebody  to  mind  her  property. 
Moreover,  by  hard  work  and  the  skill  begot 
of  much  practice,  she  was  able  to  earn 
the  sum  of  some  three  farthings  an  hour 
at  the  rush-bags  :  a  profit  which  her  cu- 
pidity made  her  reluctant  to  lose,  for  even 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

half  an  hour.  And  thus,  to  have  Dicky 
carry  on  the  business  —  and  in  his  enthu- 
siasm he  did  it  very  well  —  w^as  a  further 
consideration. 

Father  Sturt  chatted  with  Dicky  till  the 
boy  could  scarce  plait  for  very  pride. 
Would  not  Dicky  like  to  work  regularly 
every  day,  asked  Father  Sturt,  and  earn 
wages  ?  Dicky  could  see  no  graceful 
answer  but  the  affirmative  ;  and  in  sober 
earnest  he  thought  he  would.  Father 
Sturt  took  hold  of  Dicky's  vanity.  Was 
he  not  capable  of  something  better  than 
other  Jago  boys  ?  Why  should  he  not 
earn  regular  wages,  and  live  comfortably, 
well-fed  and  clothed,  with  no  fear  of  the 
police,  and  no  shame  for  what  he  did  ? 
He  might  do  it,  when  others  could  not. 
They  were  not  clever  enough.  They 
called  themselves  "  clever  "  and  "  wide  ;'* 
"  but,"  said  Father  Sturt,  "  is  there  one  of 
them  that  can  deceive  me  ?  "  And  Dicky 
knew  there  was  not  one.  Adost  did  no 
213 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

work,  the  vicar's  argument  went  on,  be- 
cause they  had  neither  the  pluck  to  try 
nor  the  intelh'gence  to  accomplish.  Else 
why  did  they  live  the  wretched  Jago  life 
instead  of  take  the  pleasanter  time  of  the 
decent  labourer  ? 

Dicky,  already  zealous  at  work  as  ex- 
ampled  in  rush  bag-making,  listened  with 
wistful  pride.  Yes,  if  he  could,  he  would 
work  and  take  his  place  over  the  envious 
heads  of  his  Jago  friends.  But  how  ? 
Nobody  would  employ  a  boy  living  in  the 
Jago.  That  was  notorious.  The  address 
was  a  topsy-turvy  testimonial  for  miles 
round. 

All  the  same,  when  Mrs.  Bates  at  last 
took  away  her  belongings,  Dicky  ran  off 
in  delighted  amaze  to  tell  his  mother  and 
Em  that  he  was  going  to  tea  at  Father 
Sturt's  rooms. 

And  the  wreckers  tore  down  the  foul 
old  houses,  laying  bare  the  secret  dens  of 
a  century  of  infamy  ;  lifting  out  the  wide 
214 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

sashes  of  the  old  "weavers*  windows'* — 
the  one  good  feature  in  the  structures ; 
letting  light  and  air  at  last  into  the  subter- 
raneous basements  where  men  and  women 
had  swarmed,  and  bred,  and  died,  hke 
wolves  in  their  lairs ;  and  emerging  from 
clouds  of  choking  dust,  each  man  a  colony 
of  vermin.  But  there  were  rooms  which 
the  wreckers  —  no  jack-a-dandies,  neither 
—  flatly  refused  to  enter ;  and  nothing 
would  make  them  but  much  coaxing,  the 
promise  of  extra  pay,  and  the  certainty  of 
much  immediate  beer. 


XVIII 

Mr.  Grinder  kept  a  shop  in  the  Bethnal 
Green  Road.  It  was  announced  in  bril- 
liant lettering  as  an  "  oil,  colour  and  Italian 
warehouse,"  and  there,  in  addition  to  the 
oil  and  the  colour,  and  whatever  of  Italian 
there  might  have  been  ;  he  sold  pots,  pans, 
kettles,  brooms,  shovels,  mops,  lamps, 
nails,  and  treacle.  It  was  a  shop  ever  too 
tight  for  its  stock,  which  burst  forth  at  every 
available  opening,  and  heaped  so  high  on 
the  paving  that  the  window  was  half  buried 
in  a  bank  of  shining  tin.  Father  Sturt 
was  one  of  the  best  customers  :  the  oil, 
candles  and  utensils  needed  for  church  and 
club  all  coming  from  Mr.  Grinder's.  Mr. 
Grinder  was  losing  his  shop-boy,  who  had 
found  a  better  situation  ;  and  Father  Sturt 
determined  that  could  the  oilman  but  be 
216 


'^ 


A   CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

persuaded,  Dicky  Perrott  should  be  the 
new  boy.  Mr.  Grinder  was  persuaded. 
Chiefly,  perhaps,  because  the  vicar  under- 
took to  make  good  the  loss,  should  the 
experiment  end  in  theft ;  partly  because  it 
was  policy  to  oblige  a  good  customer ;  and 
partly,  indeed,  because  Mr.  Grinder  was 
willing  to  give  such  a  boy  a  chance  in  life, 
for  he  was  no  bad  fellow,  as  oil-and-colour 
men  go,  and  had  been  an  errand-boy 
himself. 

So  that  there  came  a  Monday  morning 
when  Dicky,  his  clothes  as  well  mended 
as  might  be  (for  Hannah  Perrott,  no  more 
than  another  Jago,  could  disobey  Father 
Sturt),  and  a  cut-down  apron  of  his  mother's 
tied  before  him,  stood  by  Mr.  Grinder's 
bank  of  pots  and  kettles,  in  an  eager  agony 
to  sell  something,  and  near  blind  with  the 
pride  of  the  thing.  He  had  been  waiting 
at  the  shop-door  long  ere  Mr.  Grinder 
was  out  of  bed  ;  and  now,  set  to  guard 
the  outside  stock  —  a  duty  not  to  be  neg- 
217 


4^ 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

lected  in  that  neighbourhood  —  he  brushed 
a  tin  pot  here  and  there  with  his  sleeve, 
and  longed  for  some  Jago  friend  to  pass 
and  view  him  in  his  new  greatness.  The 
goods  he  watched  over  were  an  unfailing 
source  of  interest ;  and  he  learned  by 
much  repetition  the  prices  of  all  the  sauce- 
pans, painted  in  blue  distemper  on  the  tin, 
and  ranging  from  eightpence-halfpenny,  on 
the  big  pots  in  the  bottom  row,  to  three- 
halfpence  on  the  very  little  ones  at  the 
top.  And  there  were  long  ranks  of  little^-^| 
paraffin  lamps  at  a  penny  —  the  sort '.that- 
had  set  fire  to  a  garret  in  Half  Jago  Street 
aA  a  month  since,  and  burnt  old  Mother  Leary 
to  a  greasy  cinder.  With  a  smaller  array 
of  superior  quality  at  fourpence-halfpenny 
— just  like  the  one  that  had  burst  at  Jerry 
Gullen's,  and  burnt  the  bed.  While  over 
his  head  swung  doormats  at  one-and- 
eightpence,  with  penny  mousetraps  dang- 
ling from  their  corners.  When  he  grew 
more  accustomed  to  his  circumstances,  he 
218 


I 


A   CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

bethought  him  to  collect  a  little  dirt,  and 
rub  it  down  the  front  of  his  apron,  to  give 

;  himself  a  well-worked   and   business-like 

\  appearance ;  and  he  greatly  impeded 
women  who  looked  at  the  saucepans  and 
the  mousetraps,  ere  they  entered  the  shop, 

.'  by  his  anxiety  to  cut  them  off  from  Mr. 

1  Grinder  and  serve  them  himself.  He  re- 
membered the  boy  in  the  tin-shop  in  Bish- 
opsgate  Street,  years  ago,  who  had  chased 
him  through  Spitalfields ;  and  he  wished 
that  some  lurching  youngster  would  snatch 
a  mousetrap,  that  he  might  make  a  chase 
himself. 

At  Mr.  Grinder's  every  call  Dicky  was 
prompt  and  willing  ;  for  every  new  duty 
was  a  fresh  delight,  and  the  whole  day  a 
prolonged  game  of  real  shopkeeping.  And 
at  his  tea  —  he  was  to  have  tea  each  day  in 
addition  to  three-and-sixpence  every  Satur- 
day —  he  took  scarce  five  minutes.  There 
was  a  trolley  — just  such  a  thing  as  porters 
used  at  railway  stations,  but  smaller  — 
219 

c1 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

which  was  his  own  particular  implement, 
his  own  to  pack  parcels  on  for  delivery  to 
such  few  customers  as  did  not  carry  away 
their  own  purchases:  and  to  acquire  the 
dexterous  management  of  this  trolley  was 
a  pure  joy.  He  bolted  his  tea  to  start  the 
sooner  on  a  trolley-journey  to  a  public- 
house  two  hundred  yards  away. 

His  enthusiasm  for  work  as  an  amuse- 
ment cooled  in  a  day  or  two,  but  all  his 
pride  in  it  remained.  The  fight  with  Dove 
Lane  waxed  amain,  but  Dicky  would  not 
be  tempted  into  more  than  a  distant  inter- 
est in  it.  In  his  day-dreams  he  saw  him- 
self a  tradesman,  with  a  shop  of  his  own 
and  the  name  "  R.  Perrott,"  with  a  gold 
flourish,  over  the  door.  He  would  employ 
a  boy  himself  then ;  and  there  would  be 
a  parlour,  with  stufF-bottomed  chairs  and  a 
shade  of  flowers,  and  Em  grown  up  and 
playing  on  the  piano.  Truly  Father  Sturt 
was  right :  the  hooks  were  fools,  and  the 
straight  game  was  the  better. 


^'\ 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

Bobby  Roper,  the  hunchback,  went 
past  the  shop  once,  and  saw  him.  Dicky, 
minding  his  new  dignity,  ignored  his  enemy, 
and  for  the  first  time  for  a  year  and  more, 
allowed  him  to  pass\without  either  taunt 
or  blow.  The  other,  astonished  at  Dicky's 
new  occupation,  came  back  and  back  again, 
staring  from  a  safe  distance,  at  Dicky  and 
the  shop.  Dicky,  on  his  part,  took  no  more 
notice  than  to  assume  an  ostentatious  vigi- 
lance :  so  that  the  hunchback,  baring  his 
teeth  in  a  snigger  of  malice,  at  last  turned 
on  his  heel  and  rolled  off. 

Twice  Kiddo  Cook  passed,  but  made  no 
sign  of  recognition  beyond  a  wink  ;  and 
Dicky  felt  grateful  for  Kiddo's  obvious 
fear  of  compromising  him.  Once  old 
Beveridge  came  by,  striding  rapidly,  his 
tatters  flying,  and  the  legend,  "  Hard  Up," 
chalked  on  his  hat,  as  was  his  manner  in 
his  town  rambles.  He  stopped  abruptly 
at  sight  of  Dicky,  stooped,  and  said : 
"  Dicky  Perrott  ?      Hum  —  hum  —  hey  ?" 


r^ 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

Then  he  hurried  on,  doubtless  conceiving 
just  such  a  fear  as  Kiddo  Cook's.  As  for 
Tommy  Rann,  his  affections  were  alienated 
by  Dicky's  outset  refusal  to  secrete  treacle 
in  a  tin  mug  for  a  midnight  carousal ;  and 
he  did  not  show  himself.  So  matters  went 
on    for  a  week. 

But  Mr.  Weech  missed  Dicky  sadly. 
It  was  rare  for  a  day  to  pass  without  a 
visit  from  Dicky,  and  Dicky  had  a  way  of 
bringing  good  things.  Mr.  Weech  would 
not  have  sold  Dicky*s  custom  for  ten  shil- 
lings a  week.  So  that  when  Mr.  Weech 
inquired,  and  found  that  Dicky  was  at  work 
in  an  oil-shop,  he  was  naturally  annoyed. 
Moreover,  if  Dicky  Perrott  got  into  that 
way  of  life,  he  would  have  no  fear  for 
himself,  and  might  get  talking  incon- 
veniently among  his  new  friends  about  the 
business  affairs  of  Mr.  Aaron  Weech. 
And  at  this  reflection  that  philanthropist 
grew  thoughtful. 


222 


XIX 

Dicky  had  gone  on  an  errand,  and  Mr. 
Grinder  was  at  the  shop  door,  when  there 
appeared  before  him  a  whiskered  and 
smirking  figure,  with  a  quick  glance  each 
way  along  the  street,  and  a  long  and  smil- 
ing one  at  the  oil-man's  necktie. 

"  Good  mornin*,  Mr.  Grinder,  good 
mornin'  sir."  Mr.  Weech  stroked  his 
left  palm  with  his  right  fist  and  nodded 
pleasantly.  "  I  'm  in  business  myself, 
over  in  Meakin  Street  —  name  of  Weech  : 
p'r'aps  you  know  the  shop  ?  I  —  I  jist 
'opped  over  to  ask"  —  Grinder  led  the  way 
into  the  shop  — "  to  ask  (so  's  to  make 
things  quite  sure,  y'  know,  though  no  doubt 
it's  all  right)  to  ask  if  it  's  correct  you're 
awfFerin'  brass  roastin'-jacks  at  a  shillin' 
each." 

223 


A   CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

"  Brass  roastin'-jacks  at  a  shillin'  ?  " 
exclaimed  Grinder,  shocked  at  the  notion. 
"  Why,  no !  " 

Mr.  Weech  appeared  mildly  surprised. 
"  Nor  yut  seven-poun*  jars  o*  jam  an* 
pickles  at  sixpence  ?  '*  he  pursued,  with 
his  eye  on  those  ranged  behind  the  coun- 
ter. 

"  No  !  *' 

"  Nor  door-mats  at  fourpence  ?  ** 

"  Fourpence  ?     Cert  'nly  not !  '* 

Mr.  Weech's  face  fell  into  a  blank 
perplexity.  He  pawed  his  ear  with  a 
doubtful  air,  murmuring  absently  :  "Well, 
I  'm  sure  he  said  fourpence  :  an'  sixpence 
for  pickles,  an'  bring  'em  round  after  the 
shop  was  shut.  But  there,"  he  added, 
more  briskly,  "  there  's  no  'arm  done,  an' 
no  doubt  it 's  a  mistake."  He  turned  as 
though  to  leave,  but  Mr.  Grinder  restrained 
him. 

"  But  look  'ere,"  he  said,  "  I  want  to 
know  about  this.  Wotjer  mean .?  ^Oo 
224 


'b^ 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

was  goin'  to  bring  round  pickles  after  the 
shop  was  shut  ?  '  Oo  said  fourpence  for 
door-mats  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  expect  it 's  just  a  little  mistake, 
that 's  all,'*  answered  Weech,  making  ano- 
ther motion  toward  the  door  ;  "  an'  I  do  n't 
want  to  git  nobody  into  trouble." 

"  Trouble  ?  Nice  trouble  I  'd  be  in  if 
I  sold  brass  smoke-jacks  for  a  bob ! 
There  's  somethink  'ere  as  I  ought  to  know 
about.     Tell  me  about  it  straight." 

Weech  looked  thoughtfully  at  the  oil- 
man's top  waistcoat  button  for  a  few 
seconds,  and  then  said:  " Yus, p'r'haps  I 
better.  I  can  feel  for  you,  Mr.  Grinder, 
'avin'  a  feelin'  'art,  an'  bein'  in  business 
meself.     Where's  your  boy  ?  " 

"  Gawn  out." 

"  Comin'  back  soon  ?  " 

"Not  yut.  Come  in  the  back-par- 
lour." 

There  Mr.  Weech,  with  ingenuous 
reluctance,    assured     Mr.    Grinder    that 

225 


jL/ 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

Dicky  Perrott  had  importuned  him  to  buy 
the  goods  in  question  at  the  prices  he  had 
mentioned,  together  with  others  —  readily 
named  now  that  the  oil-man  swallowed  so 
freely —  and  that  they  were  to  be  delivered 
and  paid  for  at  night  when  Dicky  left 
work.  But,  perhaps,  Mr.  Weech  con- 
cluded, parading  an  obstinate  belief  in 
human  nature,  perhaps  the  boy  being  new 
to  the  business,  had  mistaken  the  prices, 
and  was  merely  doing  his  best  to  push  his 
master's  trade. 

"No  fear  o'  that,"  said  Grinder,  shaking 
his  head  gloomily.  "  Not  the  least  fear  o' 
that.  'E  knows  the  cheapest  door-mats  I 
got  *s  one  an*  six — I  'eard  him  tell  custo- 
mers so  outside  a  dozen  times;  an*  anyone 
can  see  the  smoke-jacks  is  ticketed  five 
an'  nine  ** — as  Mr.  Weech  had  seen,  when 
he  spoke  of  them.  "I  thought  that  boy 
was  too  eager  an'  willin'  to  be  quite 
genavin,"  Dicky's  master  went  on.  "  *E 
ain't  *ad  me  yut,  that 's  one  comfort :  if 
226 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

anythin'  'ud  bin  gawn  I  'd  'a*  missed  it.  But 
out  'e  goes  as  soon  as  *e  comes  back :  you 
can  take  yer  davy  o'  that !  " 

"Ah,"  replied  Mr.  Weech,  "it's  fear- 
ful the  wickedness  there  is  about,  ain't  it  ? 
It 's  enough  to  break  yer  'art.  Sich  a 
neighb'r'ood  too  !  W'y,  if  it  was  known 
as  I  'd  give  you  this  'ere  little  friendly  in- 
formation, bein'  in  business  meself  an* 
knowin'  wot  it  is,  my  life  would  n't  be  safe 
a  hower.     It  would  n't  Mr.  Grinder." 

"Would  n't  it?"  said  Mr.  Grinder. 
"  You  mean  them  in  the  Jago,  I    s'pose." 

"  Yus.  They  're  a  awful  lot,  Mr.  Grin- 
der— you  've  no  idear.  The  father  o'  this 
'ere  boy  as  I  've  warned  you  aginst,  *e  's  in 
with  a  desprit  gang,  an'  they  'd  murder  me 
if  they  thought  I  'd  come  an'  told  you  hon- 
est, w'en  you  might  'a'  bin  robbed,  as  is 
my  nature  to.  They  would  indeed.  So 
o'  course  you  won't  say  wot  I  told  yer,  nor 
'oo  give  you  this  'ere  honourable,  friendly 
warnin' — not  to  nobody." 
227 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

"That*s  awright,"  answered  the  simple 
Grinder,  "  I  won't  let  on.  But  out  *e 
goes,  promp*.  I  *m  obliged  to  yer,  Mr. 
Weech.     Er — r  wot  '11  yer  take  ?  " 

Weech  put  away  the  suggestion  with  a 
virtuous  palm  : — "  Nothink  at  all,  Mr. 
Grinder,  thanks  all  the  same.  I  never 
touch  nothink  ;  an'  I  'm  glad  to — to  do  any 
moral  job,  so  to  speak,  as  comes  in  my 
way.  '  Scatter  seeds  o'  kindness '  you 
know,  as  the — the  Psalms  says,  Mr.  Grin- 
der.     Your  boy  ain't  back,  is  'e  ?  " 

And  after  peering  cautiously,  Mr. Weech 
went  his  way. 


XX 

Dicky  completed  his  round,  and  pushed 
his  unladen  trolley  Grinder-ward  with  a 
a  fuller  sense  of  responsibility  than  ever. 
For  he  carried  money.  A  publican  had 
paid  him  four  and  threepence,  and  he  had 
taken  two  and  tenpence  elsewhere.  He 
had  left  his  proud  signature,  pencilled  large 
and  black,  on  two  receipts,  and  he  stopped 
in  a  dozen  doorways  to  count  the  money 
over  again,  and  make  sure  that  all  was 
right.  Between  the  halts  he  added  four 
and  three  to  two  and  ten  mentally,  and 
proved  his  sum  correct  by  subtracting  each 
in  turn  from  seven  and  a  penny,  and  at 
last  he  stood  his  trolley  on  end  by  the 
bank  of  sauce-pans  and  entered  the  shop. 

"  Walkers  is  paid,  an'  Wilkins  is  paid," 
229 


ni 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

said  Dicky,  putting  down  the  money. 
"  Two  an'  ten  an'  four  an'  three  's  seven 
an'  a  penny." 

Mr.  Grinder  looked  steadily  and  sourly 
at  Dicky,  and  counted.  He  pitched  the 
odd  penny  into  the  till  and  shook  the  rest 
of  the  coins  in  his  closed  hand,  still  staring 
moodily  in  the  boy's  face.  "  It 's  three 
an'  six  a  week  you  come  'ere  at,"  he  said. 

"  Yus  sir,"  Dicky  replied,  since  Grin- 
der seemed  to  expect  an  answer.  The 
supreme  moment  when  he  should  take  his 
first  wages  had  been  the  week's  beacon  to 
him,  reddening  and  brightening  as  Satur- 
day night  grew  nearer. 

"  Three  an'  six  a  week  an'  yer  tea." 

Dicky  wondered. 

"  So  as  if  I  found  out  anythink  about — 
say  Brass  Roastin'-jacks  for  instance — I 
could  give  ye  yer  three  an'  six  an'  start  y' 
auf,  unless  I  did  somethin'  wuss." 

Dicky  was  all  incomprehension ;  but 
something  made  him  feel  a  little  sick. 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

"  But  s'posin'  I  did  rCt  find  uut  any- 
think  about — say  Seven-pun'  Jars  o'  Pick- 
les— an'  s'pose  I  was  n't  disposed  to  sus- 
pect anythink  in  regard  to — say  Door-mats; 
then  I  could  either  give  ye  a  week's  notice 
or  pay  ye  a  week's  money  an'  clear  y'  out 
on  the  spot,  without  no  more  trouble." 

Mr.  Grinder  paused,  and  still  looked  at 
Dicky  with  calm  dislike.  Then  he  added, 
as  though  in  answer  to  himself,  "  Yus."   .  . 

He  dropped  the  money  slowly  from  his 
right  hand  to  his  left.  Dicky's  mouth 
was  dry,  and  the  drawers  and  pickle-jars 
swam  before  him  at  each  side  of  Grinder's 
head.     What  did  it  mean  ? 

"  'Ere  y'  are,"  cried  Mr.  Grinder,  with 
sudden  energy,  thrusting  his  hand  across 
the  counter.  "  Two  three-and-sixes  is 
seven  shillin's,  an'  you  can  git  yer  tea  at 
'ome  with  yer  dirty  little  sister.  Git  out 
o'  my  shop  !  " 

Dicky's  hand  closed  mechanically  on 
the  money,  and  after  a  second's  pause  he 
231 


A  CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

found  broken  speech.  "W — w  —  wot 
for,  sir  ?  '*  he  asked,  huskily.  "  I  ain't 
done  nothink  !  '* 

"No,  an'  you  sha'n't  do  nothink, that 's 
more.  Out  ye  go  !  If  I  see  ye  near  the 
place  agin  I  '11  have  ye  locked  up  !  " 

Dicky  slunk  to  the  door.  He  felt  the 
sobs  coming,  but  he  turned  at  the  threshold 
and  said  with  tremulous  lips : — "  Woncher 
gimme  a  chance,  sir?  S'elp  me,  I  done 
me  best.     I  —  " 

Mr.  Grinder  made  a  short  rush  from 
the  back  of  the  shop,  and  Dicky  gave  up 
and  fled. 

It  was  all  over.  There  could  never  be 
a  shop  with  "  R.  Perrott "  painted  over  it, 
now;  there  would  be  no  parlour  with  stufF- 
bottomed  chairs  and  a  piano  for  Em  to 
play.  He  was  cut  ofF  from  the  trolley  for 
ever:  Dicky  was  thirteen,  and  at  that 
age  the  children  of  the  Jago  were  past 
childish  tears;  but  tears  he  could  not 
smother,  even  till  he  might  find  a  hiding- 
232 


C\'^ 


J 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

place:  they  burst  out  shamefully  in  the 
open  street. 

He  took  dark  turnings,  and  hid  his  head 
in  doorways.  It  was  very  bitter.  At 
last,  when  the  sobs  grew  fewer,  he  remem- 
bered the  money  gripped  in  his  wet  fist. 
It  was  a  consolation.  Seven  shillings  was 
a  vast  sum  in  Dicky's  eyes ;  until  that 
day  he  had  never  handled  so  much  in  his 
life.  It  would  have  been  handsome  re- 
compense, he  thought,  for  any  trouble  in 
the  world  but  this.  He  must  take  it 
home,  of  course;  it  might  avail  to  buy 
sympathy  of  his  father  and  mother.  But 
then,  to  think  he  might  have  had  as  much 
every  fortnight  of  his  life,  a  good  tea  every 
day,  and  the  proud  responsibility,  and  the 
trolley  !  At  this  his  lips  came  awry  again, 
his  eyes  sought  his  sleeve,  and  he  turned 
to  another  doorway. 

His  glance  fell  on  the  white  apron,  now 
smudged  and  greased  in  good  earnest.  It 
made  him  feel  worse ;  so  he  untied  it  and 
233 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

stufFed  it  away  under  his  jacket.  ,_He 
wondered  vaguely  what  had  occurred  to 
irritate  Mr.  Grinder,  and  why  he  talked  of 
pickles  and  door-mats;  but  the  sorrow  of 
it  all  afflicted  him  to  the  extinction  of  such 
minor  speculation.  And  in  this  misery  he 
dragged  his  reluctant  feet  toward  the  Old 
Jago. 


XXI 

He  handed  his  father  the  seven  shillings, 
and  received  a  furious  belting  for  losing 
his  situation.  He  cried  quietly,  but  it  was 
not  because  of  the  strap.  All  he  feared 
now  was  to  meet  Father  Sturt.  He  had 
rather  fifty  beltings  than  Father  Sturt's 
reproaches;  and,  having  disgraced  him- 
self with  Mr.  Grinder  in  some  mysterious 
way  which  it  was  beyond  his  capacity  to 
understand,  what  but  reproaches  could  he 
expect  from  the  vicar  ?  The  whole  world 
was  against  him.  As  for  himself,  he  was 
hopeless:  plainly,  he  must  have  some  in- 
comprehensible defect  of  nature,  since  he 
offended,  do  as  he  might,  and  could  neither 
understand  or  redeem  his  fault.  He  won- 
dered if  had  been  so  with  little  Neddy 
Wright,  who  had  found  the  world  too 
235 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

ruthless  for  him  at  ten ;  and  had  tied  a 
brick  to  his  neck,  as  he  had  seen  done 
with  needless  dogs,  and  let  himself  timidly 
down  into  the  canal  at  Haggerstone 
Bridge. 

So  he  shuffled  through  Jago  Row,  when 
a  hand  came  on  his  shoulder  and  a  hoarse 
voice  said  :    "  Wot 's  the  matter,  Dicky ! " 

He  turned,  and  saw  the  mild,  coarse  face 
of  Pigeony  Poll,  the  jaw  whereof  was 
labouring  on  something  tough  and  sticky. 
Poll  pulled  from  her  pocket  a  glutinous 
paper,  clinging  about  a  cohesive  lump  of 
broken  toffee — the  one  luxury  of  her  mon- 
eyed times.  "'Ave  a  bit?"  she  said. 
"  Wot  *s  the  matter  ?  " 

But  Dicky  thrust  the  hand  away  and 
fled,  for  he  feared  another  burst  of  tears. 
His  eyes  were  bad  enough  as  it  was,  and 
he  longed  to  hide  himself  in  some  hole. 

He  turned  into  New  Jago  street.  Hither 
it  was  that  Jerry  Gullen  had  betaken  him- 
self with  his  family  and  the  Canary,  after 
236 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

the  great  eviction.  Dicky  slackened  his 
pace,  loitered  at  Jerry's  doorway,  and  pres- 
ently found  himself  in  the  common  pas- 
sage. It  was  long  since  he  had  had  a  private 
interview  with  Jerry  Gullen's  canary  j  for, 
indeed,  he  was  thirteen — he  was  no  longer 
a  child,  in  fact ! — and  it  was  not  well  that 
he  should  indulge  in  such  foolish  weak- 
ness. Nevertheless  he  went  as  far  as  the 
back  door.  There  stood  the  old  donkey, 
mangy  and  infirm  as  ever,  but  apparently 
no  nearer  the  end.  The  wood  of  the  fence 
was  bitten  in  places,  but  it  was  not,  as  yet, 
gnawed  to  the  general  whiteness  and  round- 
ness of  that  in  Canary's  old  abode.  Canary, 
indeed,  was  fortunate  to-day,  for  at  the 
sound  of  Dicky's  step  he  lifted  his  nose 
from  a  small  heap  of  straw,  dust,  and 
moldy  hay,  swept  into  a  corner.  Dicky 
stepped  into  the  yard,  and  put  his  hand  on 
Canary's  neck;  presently  he  glanced  guiltily 
at  the  windows  above.  Nobody  was  look- 
ing. And  in  five  minutes  Dicky,  all  aged 
237 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

as  he  was,  had  told  Canary  his  troubles, 
while  new  tears  wetted  the  ragged  crest 
and  dropped  into  the  dusty  straw. 

Now  his  grief  lost  some  of  its  edge. 
Ashamed  as  he  was,  he  had  a  shapeless, 
unapprehended  notion  that  Canary  was  the 
sole  creature  alive  that  could  understand 
and  feel  with  him.  And  Canary  poked  his 
nose  under  the  old  jacket  and  sniffed  in 
sympathy,  as  the  broken  lining  tickled  him. 
Dicky's  intellectuals  began  to  arrange  them- 
selves. Plainly  Mr.  Weech's  philosophy 
was  right  after  all.  He  was  of  the  Jago, 
and  he  must  prey  on  the  outer  world,  as 
all  the  Jago  did  ;  not  stray  foolishly  off  the 
regular  track  in  chase  of  visions  and  fall 
headlong.  Father  Sturt  was  a  creature; 
of  another  mould.  Who  was  he,  Dicky 
Perrott,  that  he  should  break  away  from 
[the  Jago  habit  and  strain  after  another! 
[nature  !  What  could  come  of  it  but  defeat 
and  bitterness  ?  As  old  Beveridge  had 
said,  the  Jago  had  got  him.  Why  should 
238 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

he  fight  against  the  inevitable,  and  bruise 
himself?  The  ways  out  of  Jago  old 
Beveridge  had  told  him,  years  ago.  Gaol, 
the  gallows,  and  the  High  Mob.  There 
was  his  chance,  his  aspiration,  his  goal : 
the  High  Mob.  To  dream  of  oil-shops  or 
regular  wages  was  foolishness.  His  bed 
was  made  in  the  Jago,  and  he  must  lie  on  it. 
His  hope  in  life,  if  he  might  have  a  hope 
at  all,  was  to  be  of  the  High  Mob.  Spare 
nobody,  stop  at  nothing,  do  his  devilmost : 
old  Beveridge  had  said  that  years  ago.  The 
task  was  before  him,  and  he  must  not  balk 
at  it.  As  for  gaol  and  the  gallows,  well  ! 
There  they  were,  and  he  could  not  help  it ; 
ill  ways  out  of  the  Jago,  both,  but  still — 
ways  out. 

He  rubbed  his  face  carefully  with  his 
sleeve,  put  away  his  foolish  ambitions,  and 
went  forth  with  a  brave  heart  :  to  accom- 
plish his  destiny  for  well  or  ill, — a  Jago  rat. 
To  do  his  devilmost.  But  to  avoid  Father 
Sturt. 

239 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

Out  he  went  into  Shoreditch  High  street, 
and  there  he  prowled  the  evening  away; 
there  and  in  Norton  Folgate.  But  he 
touched  for  nothing — nothing  at  all.  He 
feared  lest  his  week*s  honesty  had  damaged 
his  training.  Even  an  apple  on  a  stall  he 
failed  at,  and  had  to  run.  And  then  he 
turned  into  Bethnal  Green  Road. 

But  here  a  thought  checked  him  sud- 
denly. What  of  Mr.  Grinder  ?  He  had 
threatened  to  have  Dicky  locked  up  if  he 
came  near  the  shop  again.  But  a  child  of 
Jago  knew  too  much  to  be  frightened  by 
such  a  threat  as  that.  He  went  on.  He 
felt  interested  to  see  how  his  late  employer 
was  getting  along  without  him,  and  who 
was  minding  the  goods  outside  the  shop. 
Probably  there  was  nobody  :  and  this  gave 
Dicky  an  idea. 

He   had   forgotten   his  smudgy    apron, 

folded   and   tucked   away  in  the  lining  of 

his  jacket.     Now  he  pulled   it  out,  and 

fastened   it  before  him  once    more.     He 

240 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

knew  Mr.  Grinder's  habits  in  the  shop, 
and  if  he  could  seize  a  fitting  opportunity 
he  might  be  able,  attired  in  his  apron,  to 
pick  up  or  reach  down  any  article  that 
struck  his  fancy,  fearless  of  interference 
from  passers-by ;  for  he  would  seem  to  be 
still  shop  boy. 

With  that  he  hastened,  for  it  was  near 
closing  time  at  Grinder's.  He  took  the 
opposite  side  of  the  road,  the  better  to 
observe  unseen  in  the  darkness.  But  Mr. 
Grinder  had  already  begun  to  carry  things 
in  from  the  pavement.  As  Dicky  looked 
he  came  out  with  a  long  pole  wherewith 
he  unhooked  from  above  a  clattering 
cluster  of  pails  and  watering  pots,  and  a 
bunch  of  door-mats.  The  door-mats  he  let 
fall  on  the  flags,  while  he  carried  in  the 
pots  and  pails.  Dicky  knew  that  these 
pots  and  pails  were  kept  at  night  in  a  shed 
behind  the  house;  so  he  scuttled  across 
the  road,  opening  the  blade  of  his  old 
knife  as  he  ran.  He  cut  the  string  that 
241 


A   CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

held  the  mats  together,  selected  a  thick 
one,  rolled  it  under  his  arm,  and  edged  off 
into  shadow.  Then  he  ran  quietly  across 
to  the  nearest  turning. 

Presently  Mr.  Grinder  came  out,  hook- 
ed his  finger  in  the  string  around  the 
mats,  and  pulled  up — nothing.  He  stooped 
and  saw  that  the  string  was  cut.  He 
looked  about  him  suspiciously,  flung  the 
mats  over,  and  counted  them.  Then  he 
stood  erect ;  stared  up  the  street,  down 
the  street,  and  across  the  road,  with  his 
mouth  open,  and  made  short  rushes  left 
and  right  into  the  gloom.  Then  he  re- 
turned to  the  mats  and  scratched  his  head. 
Finally,  he  gave  another  glance  about  the 
street,  picked  up  the  mats  in  his  arms  and 
carried  them  in,  counting  them  as  he 
went.  And,  the  mats  bestowed,  when 
he  came  forth  for  a  fresh  armful  of  sauce- 
pans, he  stood  and  gazed  doubtfully 
now  this  way,  now  that,  about  the  Beth- 
nal  Green  Road. 

242 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

Mr.  Aaron  Weech  was  pushing  his 
last  shutter  into  its  place  when  "  Clean 
the  knives,'*  said  Dicky  Perrott  in  per- 
functory repetition  of  the  old  formula. 

Mr.  Weech  seemed  taken  aback. 
"  Wot,  that  ? "  he  asked,  doubtfully, 
pointing  at  the  door-mat.  Then,  after  a 
sharp  look  about  the  almost  deserted 
street,  he  ran  to  Jago  Row  corner,  twenty 
yards  away,  and  looked  down  there.  No- 
body was  hiding,  and  he  came  back.  He 
led  the  way  into  the  shop,  and  closed  the 
door.  Then,  looking  keenly  in  Dicky's 
face,  he  suddenly  asked  :  "  'Oo  toldjer  to 
bring  that  'ere  ?" 

"  Told  me  ?  "  Dicky  answered,  sullen- 
ly. "  Nobody  told  me.  Don'cher  want  it  ?  " 

"  'Ow  much  did  'e  tell  ye  t'  ask  for  it  ?" 

"  Tell  me  ?     'Oo  ?  " 

"  Tou  know.  'Ow  much  didjer  say  'e 
said  ?  " 

Dicky  was  mystified.  "  Dunno  wotcher 
mean,"  he  replied. 

243 


ACHILDOFTHEJAGO      j 

Mr.  Weech  suddenly  broke  into  a  loud 
laugh,  but  kept  his  keen  look  on  the  boy's 
face  nevertheless.  "  Ah,  it 's  a  good 
joke,  Dicky,  ain't  it  ?  "  he  said,  and  laugh- 
ed again.  "  But  you  can't  'ave  me,  ye 
know  !  Mr.  Grinder's  an  old  friend  o* 
mine,  an*  I  know  'is  little  larks.  Wot 
did  'e  tell  you  to  do  if  I  would  n't  *ave 
that  door-mat .? " 

"  Tell  me  ? "  asked  Dicky,  plainly  more 
mystified  than  ever.  "  W'y  'e  never  told 
me  nothink.  'E  gimme  the  sack  this 
afternoon,  an'  chucked  me  out." 

"  Then  wotcher  got  yer  apron  on  now 
for?" 

"  Oh,"  said  Dicky,  looking  down  at  it, 
"  I  jest  put  it  on  agin — o'  purpose."  And 
he  glanced  at  the  mat. 

Mr.  Weech  understood,  and  grinned — 
a  genuine  grin  this  time.  "  That's  right, 
Dicky,"  he  said,  "  never  let  yer  wits  go 
a-ramblin'.  A  sharp  boy  like  you  's  a  lot 
too  good  for  a  shop  boy,  slavin*  away  from 
244 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

mornin'  till  night,  an'  treated  ungrateful. 
Wot  did  'e  sack  ye  for  ?  " 

"I  dunno.  Took  a  fit  in  'is  'ead,  I 
s'pose.  Wotcher  goin'  ter  give  me  for 
this  mat  ?     It  's  a  two  an'  three  mat." 

"  Want  somethink  to  eat,  doncher  ?  " 
suggested  Mr.  Weeeh,  glancing  at  a  heap 
of  stale  cake. 

"  No,  I  do  n't,"  Dicky  answered,  with 
sulky  resolution.     "  I  want  money." 

"Awright,"  said  Mr.Weech,  resignedly. 
"You  ain't  'ad  much  to  eat  an'  drink 
'ere  for  a  long  time,  though.  But  I  *11  do 
the  'an'some,  seein'  you  're  bin  treated 
ungrateful  by  Grinder.  '  Ere  's  two- 
pence." 

But  Dicky  held  to  the  mat.  "  Two- 
pence ain't  enough,"  he  said.  "  I  want 
fourpence."  He  meant  to  spare  nobody — 
not  even  Mr.  Weech. 

"  Wot  ?  Fourpence?  "  gasped  Mr 
Weech,  indignantly.  "  W'y,  you  're  mad. 
Take  it  away." 

245 


A     CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

Dicky  rolled  the  mat  under  his  arm  and 
turned  to  the  door. 

"  'Ere,"  said  Mr.  Weech,  seeing  him 
going,  "  I  '11  make  it  thrippence,  seein' 
you  're  bin  treated  so  bad.  Thrippence — 
and  a  slice  o'  cake,"  he  added,  perceiving 
that  Dicky  did  not  hesitate. 

"1  don't  want  no  cake,"  Dicky  an- 
swered doggedly.  "  I  want  fourpence, 
an*  I  won't  take  no  less." 

The  good  Weech  was  unwilling  that 
Dicky  should  find  another  market  after 
all,  so  he  submitted  to  the  extortion. 
"  Ah,  well,"  he  said,  with  a  sigh,  pulling 
out  the  extra  coppers,  "  jist  for  this  once, 
then.  You  '11  'ave  to  make  it  up  next 
time.  Mindjer,  it 's  only  'cos  I  'm  sorry 
for  ye  bein'  treated  ungrateful.  Don't 
you  go  an'  treat  me  ungrateful,  now." 

Dicky  pocketed  his  pence  and  made  for 
home,  while  Mr.  Weech,  chuckling 
gently  at  his  morning  prophecy  of  a  door- 
mat for  fourpence,  carried  the  plunder  to 
246 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

the  room  reserved  for  new  and  unused 
stock;  promising  himself,  however,  a  peep 
at  Grinder's  shop  in  the  morning,  to  make 
quite  sure  that  Dicky  had  really  left. 

So  ended  Dicky's  dealings  with  the 
house  of  Grinder.  When  Father  Sturt 
next  saw  the  oil-man,  and  inquired  of 
Dicky's  progress,  he  was  met  with  solemn 
congratulations  that  no  larcenies  were  to 
pay  for.  Mr.  Grinder's  sagacity,  it  seem- 
ed, had  enabled  him  to  detect  and  crush 
at  the  outset  Dicky's  plans  for  selling 
stock  wholesale  on  his  own  account.  Out 
of  consideration  for  the  vicar's  recommen- 
dation he  had  refrained  from  handing  the 
boy  over  to  the  police,  but  had  paid  him 
a  week  in  advance  and  dismissed  him. 
Father  Sturt  insisted  on  repaying  the 
money,  and  went  his  way  with  a  heavy 
heart.  For  if  this  was  what  came  of  the 
promising  among  his  flock,  what  of  the 
others  ?  For  some  while  he  saw  nothing 
of  Dicky;  and  the  incident  fell  back 
247 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

among  a  crowd  of  others  in  his  remem- 
brance, for  Dicky  was  but  one  among 
thousands,  and  the  disappointment  was  but 
one  of  many  hundreds. 

Lying  awake  that  night,  but  with  closed 
eyes,  Dicky  heard  his  mother,  talking 
with  his  father,  suggest  that  perhaps  an 
enemy  had  earwigged  Grinder,  and  told 
him  a  tale  that  had  brought  about  Dicky's 
dismissal,  somebody,  perhaps,  who  wanted 
the  situation  for  somebody  else.  Josh 
Perrott  did  no  more  than  grunt  at  the 
guess,  but  it  gave  a  new  light  to  Dicky. 
Clearly  that  would  account  for  Grinder's 
change.  But  who  could  the  mischief- 
maker  be  ? 

The  little  clock  on  the  mantelpiece 
ticked  away  busily  in  the  silence,and 
Dicky  instantly  thought  of  the  hunchback. 
He  it  must  have  been,  without  a  doubt. 
Who  else  ?  Was  he  not  hanging  about 
the  shop,  staring  and  sneering,  but  a  day 
or  two  back?  And  was  it  not  he  who 
248 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

had  pursued  him  with  malice  on  every 
occasion,  in  school  and  out  ?  Had  not 
Bobby  Roper  this  very  trick  of  lying  tales  ? 
Where  was  the  gratuitous  injury  in  all 
these  four  years  that  had  not  been  Bobby 
Roper's  work  ?  Dicky  trembled  with 
rage  as  he  lay,  and  he  resolved  on  condign 
revenge.  The  war  with  Dove  Lane  was 
over  for  the  time  being,  but  that  made  it 
easier  for  him  to  catch  his  enemy. 


XXII 

The  feud  between  the  Jago  and  Dove 
Lane  was  eternal,  just  as  was  that  between 
the  Ranns  and  the  Learys ;  but,  hke  the 
Rann  and  Leary  feud,  it  had  its  paroxysms 
and  its  intervals.  And  in  both  cases  the 
close  of  a  paroxysm  was  signalized  by  a 
great  show  of  amity  between  the  factions. 
Bob  Rann  and  Billy  Leary  would  drink 
affably  from  the  same  pot,  and  Norah 
Walsh  and  Sally  Green  would  call  each 
other  "  mum ";  while  Jagos  and  Dove- 
Laners  would  mingle  in  bars  and  lend 
pinches  of  tobacco,  and  call  each  other 
"matey."  A  paroxysm  in  the  war  had 
now  passed,  and  reconciliation  was  due. 
The  Dove-Laners  had  been  heavily 
thrashed  :  their  benjamins  and  kicksies  had 
250 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

been  impounded  in  Meakin  street,  and 
they  had  ceased  from  buying.  Dove 
Lane  itself  had  been  swept  from  end  to 
end  by  the  victorious  Jago,  and  the  popu- 
lations of  both  were  dotted  thickly  with 
bandaged  heads.  This  satisfactory  state 
of  things  achieved,  there  was  little  reason 
left  for  fighting.  Moreover,  if  fighting 
persisted  too  long  at  a  time,  the  police 
were  apt  to  turn  up  in  numbers,  subjecting 
the  neighborhood  to  much  inconvenient 
scrutiny,  and  very  often  coming  across 
Jagos — or  even  Dove-Laners — "  wanted** 
on  old  accounts.  So  peace  was  declared ; 
and,  as  a  visible  sign  thereof,  it  was  deter- 
mined that  the  Dove-Laners  should  visit 
the  Jago  in  a  body,  there  to  join  in  a  sing- 
song at  Mother  Gapp's.  Mother  Gapp's 
was  chosen,  not  only  because  it  was 
Mother  Gapp's — an  important  considera- 
tion— but  also  because  of  the  large  room 
behind  the  bar,  called  the  "  club-room,'* 
which  had  long  ago  been  made  of  tvvo 
251 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

rooms  and  a  big  cupboard,  by  the  cutting 
away  of  crazy  partitions  from  the  crazy 
walls. 

Scarce  was  it  dark  when  the  Dove- 
Laners,  in  a  succession  of  hilarious  groups 
— but  withal  a  trifle  suspicious — began  to 
push  through  Mother  Gapp's  doors.  Their 
caps  pulled  down  to  their  ears,  their  hands 
in  their  pockets,  their  shoulders  humped, 
and  their  jackets  buttoned  tight,  they 
lurched  through  the  Jago,  grinning  with 
uneasy  affability  at  the  greetings  that  met 
them,  being  less  practiced  than  the  Jagos 
in  the  assumption  of  elaborate  cordiality. 

In  the  club-room  of  the  Feathers  there 
were  but  three  or  four  of  the  other  party, 
though  the  bar  was  packed.  The  three 
or  four,  of  whom  Josh  Perrott  was  one, 
were  by  way  of  a  committee  of  stewards 
deputed  to  bid  the  Dove-Laners  welcome, 
and  to  help  them  to  seats.  The  Jagos 
were  in  some  sort  in  the  situation  of  hosts, 
and  it  had  been  decided  after  debate  that 
253 


A  CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

it  would   ill   become  them   to   take  their 
places  till  their  guests  were  seated.     The 
punctilio  of  the  Jago  on  such  occasions         \^ 
was  a  marvel. 

So  Josh  Perrott  stood  at  one  side  of 
the  club-room  door  and  Billy  Leary  at  the 
other,  shaking  hands  with  all  who  entered, 
and  strenuously  maintaining  cheerful  grins. 
Now,  the  Jago  smile  was  a  smile  by  itself, 
unlike  the  smiles  in  other  places.  It  faded 
suddenly,  and  left  the  face — the  Jago 
face — drawn  and  sad  and  startling  by  con- 
trast, as  of  a  man  betrayed  into  mirth  in 
the  midst  of  great  sorrow.  So  that  a  per- 
sistent grin  was  known  for  a  work  of 
conscious  effort. 

The  Dove-Laners  came  in  still  larger 
numbers  than  had  been  expected,  and  be- 
fore long  it  was  perceived  that  there  would 
be  little  space  in  the  club-room,  if  any  at 
all,  for  the  Jagos.  Already  the  visitors 
seemed  to  fill  the  place,  but  they  still  kept 
coming,  and  found  places  by  squeezing. 
253 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

There  was  some  doubt  as  to  what  had 
best  be  done.  Meanwhile  the  sing-song 
began,  for  at  least  a  score  were  anxious  to 
"  oblige "  at  once,  and  every  moment 
fresh  volunteers  arose.  Many  Dove- 
Laners  stood  up,  and  so  made  more  room ; 
but  more  came,  and  still  more,  till  the 
club-room  could  hold  not  another,  and 
the  very  walls  were  like  to  burst.  Under 
the  low  ceiling  hung  a  layer  of  smoke  that 
obscured  the  face  of  the  man  standing  on 
the  table  at  the  end  to  sing ;  and  under 
the  smoke  was  a  close-packed  array  of 
heads,  hats,  and  clay  pipes,  much  diver- 
sified by  white  bandages  and  black  eyes. 

Such  Dove-Laners  as  came  in  now 
were  fain  to  find  places  in  the  bar,  if  they 
could ;  and  a  crowd  of  Jagos,  men  and 
women,  hung  about  the  doors  of  the 
Feathers.  More  fortunate  than  other  boys, 
Dicky,  who  would  go  anywhere  to  hear 
what  purported  to  be  music,  had  succeeded 
in  worming  himself  through  the  bar  and 
254 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

almost  to  the  door  of  the  club-room,  but 
he  could  get  no  farther,  and  now  he  stood 
compressed,  bounded  on  the  face  by  Cocko 
Harnwell's  coat-tails  and  on  the  back  of 
the  head  by  Fluffy  Pike's  moleskin  waist- 
coat, with  pearlies  down  the  front  and  the 
artful  dodge  over  the  pockets.  Pud  Pal- 
mer—  one  of  the  reception  committee  — 
was  singing.  He  accompanied  his  chorus 
by  a  step  dance,  and  all  the  company 
stamped  in  sympathy  :  — 

"  She  's  a  fighter^    she  'j    a    biter ^   she  'j    a 
swearer^  she  's  a  tearer^ 
The  gonophs  down  aar  alley  they  calls  Vr 
Rorty  Sal; 
But  as  Pm  a  pertikiler  sort  o*  hloke^  I  calls 
V  Rorty  Sairer, 
rmgoire—'' 

Crack  !  —  Crash  ! 

Dicky  clung  to  Cocko  Harnwell's  coat- 
tails  lest  he  were  trampled  to  death ;  and 
for   a   while  he  was  flung  about,  crushed 

255 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

and  bruised,  among  rushing  men,  like  a 
swimmer  among  breakers,  while  the  air 
was  rent  with  howls  and  the  smash  of 
glass.  For  the  club-room  floor  had  given 
way. 

It  had  been  built  but  slightly  in  the 
beginning,  as  floor  for  two  small  rooms 
and  a  cupboard,  with  little  weight  to  carry. 
Old  and  rotten  now,  and  put  to  the  strain 
of  a  multitude,  stamping  in  unison,  it  had 
failed  utterly,  and  had  let  down  a  strug- 
gling mob  of  men  five  feet  onto  the  bar- 
rels in  the  cellar,  panic-stricken  and 
jumbled  with  tables,  pots,  wooden  forms, 
lighted  pipes  and  splintered  joinery. 

From  the  midst  of  the  stramash  a  Dove- 
Laner  bawled  aloud  that  it  was  a  trap,  and 
instantly  Jagos  and  Dove-Laners  were  at 
each  others'  throats,  and  it  was  like  to  go 
hard  with  the  few  Jagos  among  the  ruins. 
Billy  Leary  laid  about  him  desperately 
with  a  ragged  piece  of  flooring,  while  Josh 
Perrott  and  Pud  Palmer  battered  Dove- 
256 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

Laners  with  quart  pots.  Then  it  was 
shouted  without  that  the  Dove-Laners 
were  exterminating  the  Jagos  within,  and 
a  torrent  of  Jagos  burst  through  the  doors, 
poured  through  the  bar,  and  over  the 
club-room  threshold  into  the  confusion 
below. 

Dicky,  bruised,  frightened  and  flung 
like  a  rag  this  way  and  that,  at  last  made 
shift  to  grasp  a  post,  and  climb  up  on  the 
bar  counter.  Mother  Gapp,  a  dishevelled 
maniac,  was  dancing  amid  pots  and  broken 
glass,  black  in  the  face,  screaming  in- 
audibly.  Dicky  stumbled  along  the  coun- 
ter, climbed  over  the  broken  end  of  a  par- 
tition, and  fell  into  the  arms  of  Kiddo 
Cook,  coming  in  with  the  rush.  "  Put 
the  boy  out  !  "  yelled  Kiddo,  turning  and 
heaving  him  over  the  heads  behind  him. 
Somebody  caught  Dicky  by  a  leg  and  an 
arm,  his  head  hit  the  door  post,  the  world 
turned  a  double-somersault  about  him,  and 
he  came  down  with  a  crash.  He  was  on 
257 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

the  flags  of  Old  Jago  Street,  with  all  his 
breath  driven  out  of  him. 

But  he  was  quickly  on  his  feet  again. 
A  crowd  beat  against  the  front  of  Mother 
Gapp's,  and  reinforcements  came  running 
from  everywhere,  with  the  familiar  rally- 
ing-cry,  "  Jago  !  Jago  'old  tight !  "  Dove 
Lane  had  abused  the  Jago  hospitality ; 
woe  to  the  Dove-Laners  ! 

There  were  scuffles  here  and  there, 
where  Dove-Laners,  who  had  never 
reached  the  club-room,  or  who  had  been 
crowded  out  of  it,  made  for  escape. 
Dicky  was  shaken  and  sore,  but  he  pulled 
himself  together  resolutely.  He  had  seen 
a  few  Dove  Lane  boys  about  before  he 
had  got  into  the  Feathers,  and  plainly  it 
was  his  duty  to  find  them  and  bash  them. 
Moreover,  he  wondered  what  had  become 
of  his  father.  He  hastened  through  the 
dark  passage  of  the  house  next  to  Mother 
Gapp's,  into  the  back  yard,  and  through 
the  broken  fence.     There  was  a  door  in 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGG 

the  club-room    wall,  and   through  this  he 
thought  to  see  what  was  going  forward. 

The  cellar  —  at  any  rate,  at  the  farther 
end  —  was  a  pit  of  writhing  forms,  and 
the  din  rose  loud  as  ever.  A  short  figure 
stood  black  against  the  light,  and  held  by 
the  doorpost,  looking  down  at  the  riot. 
Dicky  knew  it.  He  sprang  at  Bobby 
Roper,  pulled  him  by  the  arm,  and  struck 
at  him  furiously.  The  hunchback,  whim- 
pering, did  his  best  to  retaliate  and  to  get 
away ;  but  Dicky,  raging  at  the  remem- 
brance of  his  fancied  injury,  struck  sav- 
agely, and  struck  again,  till  Bobby  Roper 
tripped  backward  over  the  projecting  end 
of  a  broken  floor-board,  and  pitched  head- 
long into  the  cellar.  He  struck  a  barrel 
and  rolled  over,  falling  into  the  space  be- 
tween that  and  two  other  barrels.  Dicky 
looked,  but  the  hunchback  did  not  move. 
Then  some  of  the  Dove-Laners  flung  pots 
at  the  lamps  hanging  against  the  club-room 
walls.  Soon  they  were  smashed  and  fell, 
259 


A   CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

and  there  was  a  darkness  ;  and  under  cover 
thereof  the  aliens  essayed  flight. 

Dicky  was  a  little  frightened  at  what  he 
had  done,  but  he  felt  that  with  Bobby 
Roper  anything  was  justifiable.  Some 
Dove-Laners  escaped  by  the  back  door — 
the  cellar  was  low,  and  there  was  not  five 
feet  between  the  barrels  and  the  broken 
joists — and  these  Dicky  avoided  by  getting 
back  through  the  fence.  In  the  end,  most 
of  the  enemy  struggled  away  by  one  means 
or  another,  and  when  lights  were  brought 
at  last  the  Jagos  were  found  pummeling 
each  other  savagely  in  the  gloom. 

Father  Sturt,  apprised  of  something  un- 
common by  the  exodus  of  members  from 
the  club,  finally  locked  the  doors  and  came 
to  investigate.  He  arrived  as  the  Jagos 
were  extricating  themselves  from  the 
cellar,  and  it  was  he  who  lifted  the  little 
hunchback  from  among  the  barrels  and 
carried  him  into  the  open  air ;  he  also  who 
carried  him  home.  No  bone  was  broken, 
260 


A   CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

and  no  joint  was  disturbed,  but  there  was 
a  serious  shock,  many  contusions,  and  a 
cut  on  the  scalp.  So  said  the  surgeon 
whom  Father  Sturt  took  with  him  to  Dove 
Lane.  And  Bobby  Roper  lay  a  fortnight 
in  bed. 

More  plaster  than  ever  embellished  the 
heads  of  Dove  Lane  and  the  Jago  that 
night  J  but  for  the  Jagos  there  was  com- 
pensation. For  down  among  the  barrels 
lay  many  a  packet  of  tobacco,  many  a 
pair  of  boots,  and  many  a  corner  stuffed 
with  mixed  property  of  other  sorts,  which 
Mother  Gapp  had  fenced  for  many  a  month 
back.  So  that  it  happened  to  more  than 
one  warrior  to  carry  home  again  some- 
thing with  which  he  had  run  between  the 
"  Posties "  long  before,  and  had  sold  to 
Mother  Gapp  for  what  she  would  give. 

The  ground  floor  of  the  Feathers  stood 

a  battered  shell.     The  damage  four  years 

ago  was  inconsiderable  compared  to  this. 

With  tears  and  blasphemy  Mother  Gapp 

261 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   J  A  GO 

invaded  the  hoard  of  her  long  iniquity  to 
buy  a  new  floor  ;  but  it  was  the  larceny — 
the  taking  of  the  tobacco  and  the  boots, 
and  the  many  other  things  from  among  the 
barrels — that  cut  her  to  the  soul.  A 
crool — a  crool  thing  was  such  robbery — 
sheer  robbery,  said  Mother  Gapp. 

Josh  Perrott  got  a  bad  sprain  in  the 
cellar,  and  had  to  be  helped  home.  More, 
he  took  with  him  not  a  single  piece  of 
plunder,  such  was  his  painful  disablement. 


XXIII 

For  more  than  a  week  Josh  Perrott 
could  not  walk  about.  And  it  was  a  bad 
week.  For  some  little  while  his  luck  had 
been  but  poor,  and  now  he  found  himself 
laid  up  with  a  total  reserve  fund  of  four- 
teenpence.  A  coat  was  pawned  with  old 
Poll  Rann  (who  kept  a  leaving  shop  in  a 
first  floor  back  in  Jago  Row)  for  ninepence. 
Then  Josh  swore  at  Dicky  for  not  being 
still  at  Grinder's,  and  told  him  to  turn  out 
and  bring  home  some  money.  Dicky  had 
risen  almost  too  sore  and  stiff  to  stand  on 
the  morning  after  the  fight  at  the  Feathers, 
and  he  was  little  better  now.  But  he  had 
to  go,  and  he  went,  though  he  well  knew 
that  a  click  was  out  of  the  question,  for  his 
joints  almost  refused  to  bend.  But  he 
263 


A   CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

found  that  the  fat*s  a-running  boys  were 
contemplating  business,  and  he  scouted  for 
them  with  such  success  as  to  bring  home 
sevenpence  in  the  evening.  Then  Kiddo 
Cook,  who  had  left  Mother  Gapp's  with  a 
double  armful  on  the  night  of  the  sing- 
song, found  himself  rich  enough,  being  a 
bachelor,  to  lend  Josh  eighteenpence.  And 
a  shawl  of  Hannah  Perrott's  was  pawned. 
That,  though,  was  redeemed  the  next  day, 
together  with  the  coat.  For  Dicky 
brought  home  a  golden  sovereign. 

It  had  been  an  easy  click — scarce  a 
click  at  all,  perhaps,  strictly  speaking. 
Dicky  had  tramped  into  the  city,  and  had 
found  a  crowd  outside  St.  Paul's — a  well- 
dressed  crowd,  not  being  moved  on:  for 
something  was  going  forward  in  the  cathe- 
dral. He  recognised  one  of  the  High 
Mob,  a  pogue-hunter — that  is  a  pickpocket 
who  deals  in  purses.  Dicky  watched  this 
man's  movements,  by  way  of  education  ; 
for  he  was  an  eminent  practitioner,  and 
264 


A   CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

worked  alone,  with  no  assistant  to  cover 
him.  Dicky  saw  him  in  the  thick  of  the 
crowd,  standing  beside  and  behind  one  lady 
after  another ;  but  it  was  only  when  his 
elbow  bent  to  slip  something  into  his  own 
pocket  that  Dicky  knew  he  had  "  touched." 
Presently  he  moved  to  another  part  of  the 
crowd,  where  mostly  men  were  standing, 
and  there  he  stealthily  let  drop  a  crumpled 
newspaper,  and  straightway  left  the  crowd. 
He  had  "  worked  "  it  as  much  as  he  judged 
safe.  Dicky  wriggled  toward  the  crumpled 
paper,  slipped  it  under  his  jacket,  and 
cleared  away  also.  He  knew  that  there  was 
something  in  the  paper  besides  news  :  that 
in  fact,  there  were  purses  in  it — purses, 
emptied  and  shed  as  soon  as  might  be,  be- 
cause nobody  can  swear  to  money,  but 
strange  purses  lead  to  destruction.  Dicky 
recked  little  of  this  danger,  but  made  his 
best  pace  to  a  recess  in  a  back  street,  there 
to  examine  his  pogues;  for  though  the 
uxter  was  gone  from  them,  they  might  yet 
265 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

bring  a  few  coppers  from  Mr.  Weech,  if 
they  were  of  good  quality.  They  were  a 
fairly  sound  lot.  One  had  a  large  clasp 
that  looked  like  silver,  and  another  was 
quite  new;  and  Dicky  was  observing  with 
satisfaction  the  shop-shininess  of  the  lining, 
when  he  perceived  a  cunning  pocket  at  the 
back,  lying  flat  against  the  main  integu- 
ment— and  in  it  was  a  sovereign!  He 
gulped  at  the  sight.  Clearly  the  pogue- 
hunter,  emptying  the  pogues  in  his  pocket 
by  sense  of  touch,  had  missed  the  flat 
pocket.  Dicky  was  not  yet  able  to  run 
with  freedom,  but  he  never  ceased  from 
trotting  till  he  reached  his  own  staircase 
in  Old  Jago  Street.  And  so  the  eight  or 
nine  days  passed,  and  Josh  went  out  into 
the  Jago  with  no  more  than  a  tenderness 
about  his  ankle. 

Now,  he  much  desired  a  good  click ;  so 
he  went  across  High  Street  Shoreditch,  to 
Kingsland  Railway   Station   and  bought  a 
ticket  for  Canonbury. 
266 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

Luck  was  against  him,  it  was  plain.  He 
tramped  the  northern  suburbs  from  three 
o'clock  till  dark,  but  touched  for  nothing. 
He  spent  money,  indeed,  for  he  feared  to 
overwork  his  ankle,  and  for  that  reason 
rested  in  divers  public-houses.  He  peeped 
in  at  the  gates  of  quiet  gardens,  in  the  hope 
of  garden-hose  left  unwatched,  or  tennis- 
rackets  lying  in  a  handy  summer-house.  But 
he  saw  none.  He  pried  about  the  doors 
of  private  stable-yards,  in  case  of  absent 
grooms  and  unprotected  bunches  of  har- 
ness ;  but  in  vain.  He  inspected  quiet 
areas  and  kitchen  entrances  in  search  of 
unguarded  spoons — even  descended  into 
one  area,  where  he  had  to  make  an  awk- 
ward excuse  about  buying  old  bottles,  in 
consequence  of  meeting  the  cook  at  the 
door.  He  tramped  one  quiet  road  after 
another  on  the  lookout  for  a  dead  'un — a 
house  furnished,  but  untenanted.  But 
there  was  never  dead  'un,  it  seemed,  in  all 
the  northern  district.  So  he  grew  tired 
267 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

and  short-tempered,  and  cursed  himself 
for  that  he  had  not  driven  ofF  with  a 
baker's  horse  and  cart  that  had  tempted 
him  in  the  early  afternoon. 

It  grew  twilight  and  then  dark.  Josh 
sat  in  a  public-house,  and  took  a  long  rest 
and  some  bread  and  cheese.  It  would 
never  do  to  go  home  without  touching,  and 
for  some  time  he  considered  possibilities 
with  regard  to  a  handful  of  silver  money, 
kept  in  a  glass  on  a  shelf  behind  the  bar. 
But  it  was  out  of  reach,  and  there  were  too 
many  people  in  the  place  for  any  attempt 
by  climbing  on  the  counter.  Josh  grew 
savage  and  soured.  Plastering  itself  was 
not  such  troublesome  work;  and  at  least 
the  pay  was  certain.  It  was  little  short 
of  10  o'clock  when  he  left  the  public- 
house  and  turned  back  toward  Canonbury. 
He  would  have  something  on  the  way,  he 
resolved,  and  he  would  catch  the  first 
train  home.  He  would  have  to  knock 
somebody  over  in  a  dark  street,  that  was 
268 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

all.  It  was  nothing  new,  but  he  would 
rather  have  made  his  click  another  way 
this  time,  because  his  tender  ankle  might 
keep  him  slow,  or  even  give  way  alto- 
gether ;  and  to  be  caught  in  a  robbery  with 
violence  might  easily  mean  something 
more  than  mere  imprisonment ;  it  might 
mean  a  dose  of  the  "cat" :  and  the  "cat"  was 
a  thing  the  thought  or  the  mention  where- 
of sent  the  shudders  through  the  Old  Jago. 
But  no :  nobody  worth  knocking  down 
came  his  way.  Truly  luck  was  out  to- 
night. There  was  a  spot  by  the  long 
garden  wall  of  a  corner  house  that  would 
have  suited  admirably,  and  as  Josh  lingered 
there,  and  looked  about  him,  his  eye  fell 
on  a  ladder,  reared  nearly  upright  against 
the  back  wall  of  that  same  corner  house, 
and  lashed  at  the  roof.  It  passed  by  the 
side  of  the  second  floor  window,  whereof 
the  top  sash  was  a  little  open.  That 
would  do.  It  was  not  his  usual  line  of 
work,  but  it  looked  very  promising. 
269 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

He  stuck  his  stick  under  his  waistcoat 
by  way  of  the  collar,  and  climbed  the  wall 
with  gingerly  care,  giving  his  sound  foot 
all  the  hard  work.  The  ladder  offered  no 
difficulty,  but  the  bottom  sash  of  the  win- 
dow was  stiff,  and  he  cracked  a  pane  of 
glass  in  pushing  at  the  frame  with  his 
stick.  The  sash  lifted,  however,  in  the 
end,  and  he  climbed  into  the  dark  room, 
being  much  impeded  by  the  dressing- 
table.  All  was  quiet  in  the  house,  and 
the  ticking  of  a  watch  on  the  dressing- 
table  was  distinct  in  the  ear.  Josh  felt 
for  it  and  found  it,  with  a  chain  hanging 
from  the  bow. 

The  house  was  uncommonly  quiet. 
Could  it  possibly  be  a  dead  'un  after  all  ? 
Josh  felt  that  he  ought  to  have  inspected 
the  front  windows  before  climbing  the 
wall,  but  the  excitement  of  the  long- 
delayed  chance  had  ruined  his  discretion. 
At  any  rate  he  would  reconnoitre.  The 
door  was  ajar  and  the  landing  was  dark. 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

Down  in  the  drawing-room  a  gross, 
pimply  man,  in  shirt-sleeves  and  socks, 
sat  up  on  the  sofa  at  the  sound  of  an 
opened  window  higher  in  the  house.  He 
took  a  drink  from  the  glass  by  his  side, 
and  listened.  Then  he  arose,  and  went 
softly  upstairs. 

Josh  Perrott  came  out  on  the  landing. 
It  was  a  long  landing,  with  a  staircase  at 
the  end,  illuminated  from  somewhere  be- 
low :  so  that  it  was  not  a  case  of  a  dead 
'un  after  all.  He  tiptoed  along  to  take  a 
look  down  the  stairs,  nevertheless.  Then 
he  was  conscious  of  a  loud  breathing,  as 
of  an  over-gorged  cow,  and  up  behind  the 
stair-rails  rose  a  fat  head,  followed  by  a 
fat  trunk  between  white  shirt-sleeves. 

Josh  sank  into  the  shadow.  The  man 
had  no  light,  but  discover  him  he  must, 
sooner  or  later,  for  the  landing  was  nar- 
row. Better  sooner,  and  suddenly.  As 
the  man's  foot  was  on  the  topmost  stair. 
Josh  sprang  at  him  with  a  straight  left- 
271 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

hander  that  took  him  on  the  broad  chin, 
and  sent  him  downstairs  in  a  heap,  with  a 
crash  and  a  roar.  Josh  darted  back  to  the 
room  he  had  just  left,  scrambled  through 
the  window,  and  slid  down  the  ladder,  as 
he  had  slid  down  many  another  when  he 
was  a  plasterer's  boy.  He  checked  him- 
self short  of  the  bottom,  sprang  at  the 
wall-coping,  flung  himself  over,  and  ran 
up  the  dark  by-street,  with  the  sound  of 
muffled  roars  and  screams  faint  in  his 
ears. 

He  ran  a  street  or  two,  taking  every 
corner  as  he  came  to  it,  and  then  fell  into  a  \ 
walk.  In  his  flight  he  had  not  spared  his 
ankle,  and  now  it  was  painful.  More- 
over, he  had  left  his  stick  behind  him,  in 
the  bedroom.  But  he  was  in  Highbury, 
and  Canonbury  Road  Station  was  less 
than  half  a  mile  away.  He  grinned  silently 
as  he  went,  for  there  was  something  in 
the  aspect  of  the  overfed  householder,  and 
in  the  manner  of  his  downfall,  that  gave 
272 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

the  adventure  a  comic  flavor.  He  took  a 
peep  at  his  spoil  as  he  passed  under  a  street 
lamp,  for  all  watches  and  chains  are  the 
same  in  the  dark,  and  the  thing  might  be 
a  mere  Waterbury  on  a  steel  guard.  But 
no :  both  were  gold,  and  heavy :  a  red  clock 
and  slang  if  ever  there  was  one.  And  so 
Josh  Perrott  hobbled  and  chuckled  his 
way  home. 


XXIV 

But  indeed,  Josh  Perrott's  luck  was 
worse  than  he  thought.  For  the  gross, 
pimply  man  was  a  High  Mobsman 
—  so  very  high  a  mobsman  that  it 
would  have  been  slander  and  libel,  and  a 
very  great  expense,  to  write  him  down  a 
mobsman  at  all.  He  paid  a  rent  of  a 
hundred  and  twenty  pounds  a  year,  and 
heavy  rates,  and  put  half  a  crown  into  the 
plate  at  a  very  respectable  chapel  every 
Sunday.  He  was,  in  fact,  the  King  of 
High  Mobsmen,  spoken  of  among  them 
as  the  Mogul.  He  did  no  vulgar  thiev- 
ery :  he  never  screwed  a  chat,  nor  claimed 
a  peter,  nor  worked  the  mace.  He  sat 
easily  at  home,  and  financed  (sometimes 
planned)  promising  speculations  :  a  large 
swindle  requiring  much  ground-baiting  and 
274 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   J  AGO 

preliminary  outlay  ;  or  a  robbery  of  specie 
from  a  mail  train ;  or  a  bank  fraud  needing 
organization  and  funds.  When  the  re- 
sults of  such  speculations  consisted  of 
money  he  took  the  lion's  share.  When 
they  were  expressed  in  terms  of  imprison- 
ment, they  fell  to  active  and  intelligent 
subordinates.  So  that  for  years  the  Mo- 
gul had  lived  an  affluent  and  a  blameless 
life,  far  removed  from  the  necessity  of 
injudicious  bodily  exercise,  and  character- 
ized by  every  indulgence  consistent  with  a 
proper  suburban  respectability.  He  had 
patronized,  snubbed,  or  encouraged  High 
Mobsmen  of  more  temerarious  habit,  had 
profited  by  their  exploits,  and  had  read  of 
their  convictions  and  sentences  with  placid 
interest  in  the  morning  papers.  And  after 
all  this,  to  be  robbed  in  his  own  house  and 
knocked  downstairs  by  a  casual  buster  was 
an  outrage  that  afflicted  the  Mogul  with 
wrath  infuriate.  Because  that  was  a  sort 
of  trouble  that  had  never  seemed  a  possi- 
275 


A   CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

bility,  to  a  person  of  his  eminence:  and 
because  the  angriest  victim  of  dishonesty 
is  a  thief. 

However,  the  burglar  had  got  clean 
away,  that  was  plain;  and  he  had  taken 
the  best  watch  and  chain  in  the  house, 
with  the  Mogul's  initials  on  the  back.  So 
that  respectable  sufferer  sent  for  the  police, 
and  gave  his  attention  to  the  alleviation 
of  bumps  and  the  washing  away  of  blood. 
In  his  bodily  condition  a  light  blow  was 
enough  to  let  a  great  deal  of  blood — no 
doubt  with  benefit ;  and  Josh  Perrott's 
blows  were  not  light  ones  in  any  case. 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  not  only  were 
the  police  on  the  lookout  for  a  man  with 
a  large  gold  watch  with  the  Mogul's  mon- 
ogram on  the  back ;  but  also  the  word 
was  passed  as  by  telegraph  through  under- 
ground channels,  till  every  fence  in  London 
was  warned  that  the  watch  was  the  Mo- 
gul's, and  ere  noon  next  day  there  was  not 
one  but  would  as  lief  have  put  a  scorpion 
276 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

in  his  pocket  as  that  same  toy  and  tackle 
that  Josh  Perrott  was  gloating  over  in  his 
back  room  in  Old  Jago  Street. 

As  for  Josh,  his  ankle  was  bad  in  the 
morning,  and  swelled.  He  dabbed  at  it 
perseveringly  with  w^et  rags,  and  rubbed  it 
vigorously,  so  that  by  one  o'clock  he  was 
able  to  lace  up  his  boot  and  go  out.  He 
was  anxious  to  fence  his  plunder  without 
delay,  and  he  made  his  way  to  Hoxton. 
The  watch  seemed  to  be  something  espe- 
cially good,  and  he  determined  to  stand 
out  for  a  price  well  above  the  usual  figure. 
For  the  swag  of  common  thieves  com- 
manded no  such  prices  as  did  that  of  the 
High  Mob.  All  of  it  was  bought  and 
sold  on  the  simple  system  first  called  into 
being  seventy  years  back  and  more  by  the 
prince  of  fences,  Ikey  Solomons.  A 
breast-pin  brought  a  fixed  sum,  good  or 
bad,  and  a  roll  of  cloth  brought  the  fixed 
price  of  a  roll  of  cloth,  regardless  of 
quality.  Thus  a  silver  watch  fetched  six 
277 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

shillings,  never  more  and  never  less  ;  a 
gold  watch  was  worth  twice  as  much  ;  an 
uncommonly  good  one — a  rich  man's 
watch — would  bring  as  much  as  eighteen 
shillings,  if  the  thief  were  judge  enough  of 
its  quality  to  venture  the  demand.  And, 
as  it  commonly  took  three  men  to  secure 
a  single  watch  in  the  open  street — one  to 
"  front,"  one  to  snatch,  and  a  third  to 
take  from  the  snatcher — the  gains  of  the 
toy-getting  trade  were  poor,  except  to  the 
fence.  This  time  Josh  resolved  to  put 
pressure  on  the  fence,  and  to  do  his  best 
to  get  something  as  near  a  sovereign  as 
might  be.  And  as  to  the  chain,  so  thick 
and  heavy,  he  would  fight  his  best  for  the 
privilege  of  sale  by  weight.  Thus  turn- 
ing the  thing  in  his  mind,  he  entered  the 
familiar  doorway  of  the  old  clothes  shop. 
"Votisid?"  asked  the  fence,  holding 
out  his  hand  with  the  customary  air  of 
contempt  for  what  was  coming,  by  way  of 
discounting  it  in  advance.     This  particular 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

fence,  by  the  bye,  never  bought  anything 
himself.  He  inspected  whatever  was 
brought  on  behalf  of  an  occult  friend  ;  and 
the  transaction  was  completed  by  a  shabby 
third  party  in  an  adjoining  court.  But  he 
had  an  amazingly  keen  regard  for  his 
friend's  interests. 

Josh  put  the  watch  into  the  extended 
hand.  The  fence  lifted  it  to  his  face, 
turned  it  over,  and  started.  He  looked 
hard  at  Josh,  and  then  again  at  the  watch, 
and  handed  it  hastily  back,  holding  it 
gingerly  by  the  bow.  "  Do  n'  vant  dot^' 
he  said  ;  "nod  me — nod  *im,  I  mean.  No, 
no."  He  turned  away,  shaking  his  hand 
as  though  to  throw  off  contamination. 
"  Take  id  avay." 

"Wot 's  the  matter  ?"  Josh  demanded, 
astonished.  "  Is  it  'cos  o*  the  letters  on 
the  back  ?  You  can  easy  send  it  to 
church,  can't  ye  ?  " 

A  watch  is  "  sent  to  church  "  when  it 
is  put  into  another  case.  But  the  fence 
279 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

waved  away  the  suggestion.  "Take  id 
avay  I  tell  you,"  he  said.  "  I — 'e  von*t 
'ave  nodden  to  do  vid  id." 

"Wot  *s  the  matter  with  the  chain, 
then  ?"  asked  Josh.  But  the  fence  walked 
away  to  the  back  of  the  shop,  wagging  his 
hands  desperately,  like  a  wet  man  seeking 
a  towel,  and  repeating  only  :  "Nodden 
to  do  vid  id — take  id  avay — nodden  to  do 
vid  it.'' 

Josh  stuffed  his  prize  back  into  his 
pocket,  and  regained  the  street.  He  was 
confounded.  What  was  wrong  with 
Cohen  ?  Did  he  suspect  a  police  trick  to 
entrap  him  ?  Josh  snorted  with  indigna- 
tion at  the  thought.  He  was  no  nark ! 
But  perhaps  the  police  were  showing  a 
pressing  interest  in  Cohen's  business  con- 
cerns just  now,  and  he  had  suspended 
fencing  for  awhile.  The  guess  was  a 
lame  one,  but  he  could  think  of  none  bet- 
ter at  the  moment,  as  he  pushed  his  way 
to  the  Jago.  He  would  try  Mother  Gapp. 
280 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

Mother  Gapp  would  not  even  take  the 
watch  in  her  hands  ;  her  eyes  were  good 
enough  at  that  distance.  "Lor,  Josh  Per- 
rott,"  she  said, "  wot  'a'  ye  bin  up  to  now  ? 
Want  to  git  me  lagged  now,  do  ye  ?  Ain't 
satisfied  with  breakin'  up  the  'ouse  an' 
ruinin'  a  pore  widder  that  way,  ain't  ye  ? 
You  git  out,  go  on.  I  'ad  'nough  o' 
you  ! " 

It  was  very  extraordinary.  Was  there 
a  general  reclamation  of  fences  ?  But 
there  were  men  at  work  at  the  Feathers, 
putting  down  boards  and  restoring  parti- 
tions ;  and  two  of  them  had  been  "  gone 
over  "  ruinously  on  their  way  to  work,  and 
now  they  came  and  went  with  four  police- 
men. Possibly  Mother  Gapp  feared  the 
observation  of  carpenters.  Be  it  as  it 
might,  there  was  nothing  for  it  now  but 
Weech's. 

Mr.  Weech  was  charmed.  "Dear  me, 
it 's  a  wonderful  fine  watch,  Mr.  Perrott — 
a  wonderful  fine  watch.  An'  a  beautiful 
281 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

chain."  But  he  was  looking  narrowly  at 
the  big  monogram  as  he  said  it.  "  It 's 
reely  a  wonderful  article.  *Ow  they  do 
git  'em  up,  to  be  sure  !  Cost  a  lot  of 
money,  too,  I  '11  be  bound.  Might  you 
be  thinking  of  sellin*  it  ?'* 

"  Yus,o*  course,"  replied  Josh.  "  That 's 
wot  I  brought  it  for." 

"  Ah,  it 's  a  lovely  watch,  Mr.  Perrott 
— a  lov-erly  watch ;  an'  the  chain  matches 
it.  But  you  must  n't  be  too  'ard  on  me. 
Shall  we  say  four  pounds  for  the  little 
lot  ?" 

It  more  than  doubled  Josh's  wildest 
hopes,  but  he  wanted  all  he  could  get. 
"  Five,"  he  said,  doggedly. 

Weech  gazed  at  him  with  tender  rebuke. 
"Five  pound  's  a  awful  lot  o'  money, 
Mr.  Perrott,"  he  said.  "  You  're  too  'ard 
on  me,  reely.  I  'ardly  know  'ow  I  can 
scrape  it  up.  But  it 's  a  beautiful  little 
lot,  an'  I  won't  'aggie.  But  I  ain't  got 
all  that  money  in  the  'ouse  now.  I  never 
282 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

keep  so  much  money  in  the  'ouse — sich 
a  neighborhood,  Mr.  Perrott !  Bring  it 
round  to-morrer  morning  at  eleven." 

"  Awright,  I  *11  come.  Five  quid, 
mind.'* 

"  Ah,  yus,"  answered  Mr.  Weech,  with 
a  reproving  smile.  "  It  *s  reely  more  than 
I  ought !" 

Josh  was  jubilant,  and  forgot  his  sore 
ankle.  He  had  never  handled  such  a  sum 
as  five  pounds  since  his  fight  with  Billy 
Leary,  years  ago  ;  when  indeed,  he  had 
stooped  to  folly  in  the  shape  of  lavish  treat- 
ing, and  so  had  not  enjoyed  the  handling 
of  the  full  amount. 

Mr.  Weech,  also,  was  pleased.  For  it 
was  a  great  stroke  of  business  to  oblige  so 
distinguished  a  person  as  the  Mogul. 
There  was  no  telling  what  advantages  it 
might  not  lead  to  in  the  way  of  trade. 

That  night  the  Perrotts  had  a  hot  sup- 
per, brought  from  Walker's  cookshop  in 
paper.  And  at  eleven  the  next  morning 
283 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 


Josh,  twenty  yards  from  Mr.  Weech's 
door,  with  the  watch  and  chain  in  his 
pocket,  was  tapped  on  the  arm  by  a  con- 
stable in  plain  clothes,  while  another  came 
up  on  the  other  side.  "  Mornin*,  Perrott," 
said  the  first  constable,  cheerily.  "  We  *ve 
got  a  little  business  with  you  at  the  sta- 
tion." 

"  Me  ?     Wot  for  ?" 

"  O,  well,  come  along  j  p'r'aps  it  ain*t 
anything — unless  there  's  a  gold  watch  an* 
chain  on  you,  from  Highbury.  It 's  just 
a  turnin'  over." 

"  Awright,"  replied  Josh,  resignedly. 
"  It  *s  a  fair  cop.      I  '11  go  quiet." 

"  That  *s  right,  Perrott ;  it  ain  't  no  good 
playin*  the  fool,  you  know."  They  were 
moving  along ;  and  as  they  came  by 
Weech's  shop,  a  whiskered  face,  with  a 
patch  of  shining  scalp  over  it,  peeped  from 
behind  a  curtain  that  hung  at  the  rear  of 
the  bloaters  and  plumcake  in  the  window. 


As    he    saw   it, 


Josh 

284 


ducked     suddenly, 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

wrenching  his  arm  free,  and  dashed  over 
the  threshold.  Mr.  Weech,  whiskers  and 
apron  flying,  galloped  through  the  door  at 
the  back,  and  the  constables  sprang  upon 
Josh  instantly  and  dragged  him  into  the 
street.  "Wotcher  mean  ?"  cried  the  one 
who  knew  him,  indignantly,  and  with  a 
significant  glance  at  the  other.  "  Call 
that  goin'  quiet  ?*' 

Josh's  face  was  white  and  staring  with 
rage.  "Awright,*'  he  grunted  through  his 
shut  teeth,  after  a  pause.  "  I  Ml  go  quiet 
now.     I  ain't  got  nothin'  agin  ^o«." 


XXV 

Dicky's  morning  theft  that  day  had 
been  but  a  small  one — he  had  run  ofF 
with  a  new  two-foot  rule  that  a  cabinet- 
maker had  carelessly  left  on  an  unfinished 
office  table  at  his  shop  door  in  Curtain 
Road.  It  was  not  much,  but  it  might 
fetch  some  sort  of  a  dinner  at  Weech's, 
which  would  be  better  than  going  home, 
and,  perhaps,  finding  nothing.  So  about 
noon,  all  ignorant  of  his  father's  misfor- 
tune, he  came  by  way  of  Holywell  Lane 
and  Bethnal  Green  Road  to  Meakin 
Street. 

Mr.  Weech  looked  at  him  rather  oddly, 

Dicky  fancied,  when  he  came  in,  but  he 

took  the  two-foot  rule  with  alacrity,  and 

brought  Dicky  a  rasher  of  bacon,  and  a 

286 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

slice  of  cake  afterward.  This  seemed  very 
generous.  More :  Mr.  Weech*s  man- 
ner was  uncommonly  amiable,  and  when 
the  meal  was  over,  of  his  own  motion, 
he  handed  over  a  supplementary  penny. 
Dicky  was  surprised ;  but  he  had  no 
objection,  and  he  thought  little  more 
about  it. 

As  soon  as  he  appeared  in  Luck  Row 
he  was  told  that  his  father  had  been 
"  smugged."  Indeed  the  tidings  had 
filled  the  Jago  within  ten  minutes.  Josh 
Perrott  was  walking  quietly  along  Meakin 
Street  —  so  went  the  news — when  up 
comes  SnufFy  and  another  split,  and  smugs 
him.  Josh  had  a  go  for  Weech's  door, 
to  cut  his  lucky  out  at  the  back,  but  was 
caught.  That  was  a  smart  notion  of 
Josh's,  the  Jago  opinion  ran,  to  get 
through  Weech's  and  out  into  the  courts 
behind.     But  it  was  no  go. 

Hannah  Perrott  sat  in  her  room,  inert 
and  lamenting.  Dicky  could  not  rouse 
287 


A    CHILD    OP^   THE   JAGO 

her,  and  at  last  he  went  ofF  by  himself  to 
reconnoitre  about  Commercial  Street  Po- 
lice Station,  and  pick  up  what  information 
he  might ;  while  a  gossip  or  two  came  and 
took  Mrs.  Perrott  for  consolation  to 
Mother  Gapp*s.  Little  Em,  unwashed, 
tangled  and  weeping,  could  well  take  care 
of  herself  and  the  room,  being  more  than 
two  years  old. 

Josh  Perrott  would  be  brought  up  to- 
morrow, Dicky  ascertained,  at  the  North 
London  Police  Court.  So  the  next  morn- 
ing found  Dicky  trudging  moodily  along 
the  two  miles  of  flags  to  Stoke  Newing- 
ton  Road ;  while  his  mother  and  three 
sympathising  friends,  who  foresaw  an  op- 
portunity for  numerous  tiny  drops  with 
interesting  circumstances  to  flavour  them, 
took  a  penny  cast  on  the  way  in  a  tram- 
car. 

Dicky,  with  some  doubt  as  to  the  dis- 
position of  the  door-keeping  policeman 
toward  ragged  boys,  waited  for  the  four 
288 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

women,  and  contrived  to  pass  in  unob- 
served among  them.  Several  Jagos  were 
in  the  court,  interested  not  only  in  Josh's 
adventure,  but  in  one  of  Cocko  Harn- 
well's,  who  had  indulged  the  night  before 
in  an  animated  little  scramble  with  three 
policemen  in  Dalston ;  and  they  waited 
with  sympathetic  interest  while  the  luck 
was  settled  of  a  long  string  of  drunk-and- 
disorderlies. 

At  last  Josh  was  brought  in,  and  lurch- 
ed composedly  into  the  dock,  in  the  man- 
ner of  one  who  knew  the  routine.  The 
police  gave  evidence  of  arrest,  in  conse- 
quence of  information  received,  and  of 
finding  the  watch  and  chain  in  Josh's 
trousers  pocket.  The  prosecutor,  with 
his  head  conspicuously  bedight  with  stick- 
ing-plaster, pufFed  and  grunted  up  into 
the  witness  box,  kissed  the  book,  and  was 
a  "  retired  commission  agent."  He  posi- 
tively identified  the  watch  and  chain,  and 
he  no  less  positively  identified  Josh 
289 


A  CHILD   OF    THE   JAGO 

Perrott,  whom  he  had  picked  out  from  a 
score  of  men  in  the  police  yard.  This 
would  have  been  a  feat,  indeed,  for 
a  man  who  had  never  seen  Josh,  and 
had  only  once  encountered  his  fist  in  the 
dark,  had  it  not  been  for  the  dutiful 
though  private  aid  of  Mr.  Weech  :  who, 
in  giving  his  information  had  described 
Josh  and  his  one  suit  of  clothes  with  great 
fidelity,  especially  indicating  a  scar  on  the 
right  cheek-bone,  which  would  mark  him 
among  a  thousand.  The  retired  com- 
mission agent  was  quite  sure  of  the 
prisoner.  He  had  met  him  on  the  stairs, 
where  there  was  plenty  of  light  from  a 
lamp,  and  the  prisoner  had  attacked  him 
savagely,  beating  him  about  the  head  and 
flinging  him  downstairs.  The  policeman 
called  by  the  prosecutor*s  servant  deposed 
to  finding  the  prosecutor  bruised  and 
bleeding.  There  was  a  ladder  against  the 
back  of  the  house ;  a  bedroom  window 
had  been  opened  j  there  were  muddy 
290 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

marks  on  the  sill ;  and  he  had  found  the 
stick — produced — lying    in  the  bedroom. 

Josh  leaned  easily  on  the  rail  before 
him  while  evidence  was  being  given,  and 
said  "  No,  yer  worship,"  whenever  he  was 
asked  if  he  desired  to  question  a  witness. 
He  knew  better  than  to  run  the  risk  of 
incriminating  himself  by  challenging  the 
prosecutor's  well-coloured  evidence  ;  and, 
as  it  was'a  certain  case  of  committal  for 
trial,  it  would  have  been  useless  in  any 
event.  He  made  the  same  reply  when 
he  was  asked  if  he  had  anything  to  say 
before  being  committed  ;  and  straightway 
was  "  fuUied."  He  lurched  serenely  out  of 
the  dock,  waving  his  cap  at  his  friends  in 
the  court,  and  that  was  all.  The  Jagos 
waited  till  Cocko  Harnwell  got  his  three 
months  and  then  retired  to  neighbouring 
public-houses ;  but  Dicky  remembered 
his  little  sister,  and  hurried  home. 

The  month's  session  at  the  Old  Bailey 
had  just  begun,  so  that  Josh  had  no  long 
291 


A   CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

stay  at  Holloway.  Among  the  Jagos  it 
was  held  to  be  a  most  creditable  circum- 
stance that  Josh  was  to  take  his  trial  with 
full  honours  at  the  Old  Bailey,  and  not 
at  mere  County  Sessions  at  Clerkenwell, 
like  a  simple  lob-crawler  or  peter-claimer. 
For  Josh's  was  a  case  of  burglary  with 
serious  violence,  such  as  was  fitting  for 
the  Old  Bailey,  and  not  even  a  High 
Mobsman  could  come  to  trial  with  greater 
glory.  "  As  like  as  not  it 's  laggin'  dues, 
after  'is  other  convictions,"  said  Bill  Rann. 
And  Jerry  Gullen  thought  so  too. 

Dicky  went,  with  his  mother  and  Em, 
to  see  Josh  at  Newgate.  They  stood 
with  other  visitors,  very  noisy,  before  a 
double  iron  railing  covered  with  wire 
netting,  at  the  farther  side  whereof  stood 
Josh  and  other  prisoners,  while  a  scream- 
ing hubbub  of  question  and  answer  filled 
the  air.  Josh  had  little  to  say.  He 
lounged  against  the  farther  railing  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  asked  what  Cocko 
292 


A   CHILD    OF  THE   JAGO 

Harnwell  had  got,  and  sent  a  message  to 
Bill  Rann,  while  his  wife  did  little  more 
than  dolefully  look  through  the  wires,  and 
pipe  :  "  O,  Josh,  wotever  shall  I  do  ?"  at 
intervals,  with  no  particular  emotion ; 
while  Em  pressed  her  smudgy  little  face 
against  the  wires,  and  stared  mightily ;  and 
while  Dicky  felt  that  if  he  had  been  young- 
er he  would  have  cried.  When  time  was 
up  Josh  waved  his  hand  and  slouched  off, 
and  his  family  turned  out  with  the  rest  : 
little  Em  carrying  into  later  years  a  mem- 
ory of  father  as  a  man  who  lived  in  a 
cage. 

In  such  a  case  as  this,  the  Jago  would 
have  been  forever  disgraced  if  Josh  Per- 
rott's  pals  had  neglected  to  get  up  a 
"  break  "  or  subscription  to  pay  for  his  de- 
fence. Things  were  never  very  flourish- 
ing in  the  Jago.  But  this  was  the  sort  of 
break  a  Jago  could  not  shirk,  lest  it  were 
remembered  against  him  when  his  own 
turn  came.  So  enough  was  collected  to 
293 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

brief  an  exceedingly  junior  counsel,  who 
did  his  useless  best.  But  the  facts  were 
too  strong  even  for  the  most  experienced 
advocate;  the  evidence  of  the  prosecutor 
was  nowhere  to  be  shaken  and  the  jury 
found  a  verdict  of  guilty  without  leaving 
the  box — indeed,  with  scarce  the  formality 
of  collecting  their  heads  together  over  the 
rails.  Then  Josh's  past  was  most  un- 
pleasantly raked  up  before  him.  He  had 
been  convicted  of  larceny,  of  assaulting 
the  police,  and  of  robbery  with  violence. 
There  were  two  sentences  of  six  months' 
imprisonment  recorded  against  him,  one  of 
three  months,  and  two  of  a  month.  Be- 
sides fines.  The  Recorder  considered  it 
a  very  serious  offence.  Not  deterred  by 
the  punishments  he  had  already  received, 
the  prisoner  had  proceeded  to  a  worse 
crime — burglary;  and  with  violence.  It 
was  plain  that  lenience  was  wasted  in  such 
a  case,  and  simple  imprisonment  was  not 
enough.  There  must  be  an  exemplary 
294 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

sentence.  The  prisoner  must  go  into 
penal  servitude  for  five  years. 

Lagging  dues  it  was,  as  Bill  Rann  had 
anticipated.  That  Josh  Perrott  agreed 
with  him  was  suggested  by  the  fact  that 
from  the  very  beginning  he  described  him- 
self as  a  painter;  because  a  painter  in  prison 
is  apt  to  be  employed  at  times  in  painting 
— a  lighter  and  a  more  desirable  task  than 
falls  to  the  lot  of  his  fellows  in  other 
trades. 

In  a  room  by  the  court  Josh  saw  his 
wife,  Dicky,  and  Bill  Rann  (Josh's  brother- 
in-law  for  the  occasion)  before  his  ride  to 
Holloway,  his  one  stopping  place  on  the 
way  to  Chelmsford  Gaol.  Little  Em  had 
been  left  sprawling  in  the  Jago  gutters. 
This  time  Hannah  Perrott  wept  in  good 
earnest,  and  Dicky,  notwithstanding  his 
thirteen  years,  blinked  very  hard  at  the 
wall  before  him.  The  arrangement  of 
Josh's  affairs  was  neither  a  long  nor  a  dif- 
ficult labour.  "  S'pose  you  '11  'ave  to  do 
295 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

wot  you  can  with  rush  bags,  an'  sacks,  and 
match-boxes,  an'  wot  not,"  he  said  to  his 
wife,  and  she  assented.  Josh  nodded  : 
"An'  if  you  'ave  to  go  in  the  'ouse," — he 
meant  the  work-house, — "  well,  it  can't 
be  'elped.  You  won't  be  no  wuss  auf  'n 
me." 

"  Oh,  she  '//  be  awright,"  said  Bill  Rann, 
jerking  his  thumb  cheerfully  toward  the 
missis.  "Wot  about  you?  Think  they 
'11  make  it   Parkhurst  ?  " 

Josh  shook  his  head  moodily.  Park- 
hurst being  the  prison  reserved  for  con- 
victs of  less  robust  habit,  he  had  little 
hope  of  enjoying  its  easier  condition. 
Presently  he  said  :  "  I  bin  put  away  this 
time — fair  put  away." 

"Wot?"  answered  Bill,  "narkin'  dues 
is  it  ?  " 

Josh  nodded. 

"'Oo  done  it  then  ?    'Oo  narked?  " 

Josh  shook  his  head.  "  Never  mind," 
he  said,  "I  do  n't  want  'im  druv  out  o'  the 
296 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

Jago  'fore  I  come  out.  I  M  be  sorry  to 
miss  *im.  /  know  *im — that  *s  enough." 
And  then  time  was  up.  Josh  suffered 
the  missis  to  kiss  him,  and  shook  hands 
with  Bill  Rann.  "  Good  luck  to  all  you 
Jagos,"  he  said.  Dicky  shook  hands  too, 
and  said  "  Good-bye,  father !  "  in  a  voice 
of  such  laboured  cheerfulness  that  a  grin 
burst  for  a  moment  amid  Josh's  moody 
features  as  he  was  marched  away,  and  so 
departed  for  the  place — in  Jago  idiom — 
where  the  dogs  do  n*t  bite. 


XXVI 

It  was  Father  Start's  practice  to  visit 
every  family  in  his  parish  in  regular  order. 
But  small  as  the  parish  was — insignificant, 
indeed,  in  mere  area — its  population  ex- 
ceeded eight  thousand :  so  that  the  round 
was  one  of  many  months,  for  visiting  was 
one  among  innumerable  duties.  But  Josh 
Perrott's  lagging  secured  his  family  a  spe- 
cial call.  Not  that  the  circumstances 
were  in  any  way  novel  or  at  all  uncom- 
mon ;  nor  even  that  the  vicar  had  any  hope 
of  being  able  to  help.  He  was  but  the  one 
man  who  could  swim  in  a  howling  sea  of 
human  wreckage.  In  the  Jago,  wives  like 
Hannah  Perrott,  temporarily  widowed  by 
the  absence  of  husbands  '  in  the  country,* 
were  to  be  counted  in  scores,  and  most 
were  in  worse  case  than  she,  in  the  matter 
298 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

of  dependent  children.  Father  Start's 
house  list  revealed  the  fact  that  in  Old 
Jago  Street  alone,  near  seventy  of  the  males 
were  at  that  moment  on  ticket-of-leave. 

In  the  Perrott  case,  indeed,  the  sufferers 
were  fortunate,  as  things  went.  Mrs.  Per- 
rott had  but  herself  and  the  child  of  two  to 
keep,  for  Dicky  could  do  something, 
whether  good  or  bad,  for  himself.  The 
vicar  might  try  to  get  regular  work  for 
Dicky,  but  it  would  be  a  vain  toil,  for  he 
must  tell  an  employer  what  he  knew  of 
Dicky's  past  and  of  that  other  situation.  He 
could  but  give  the  woman  the  best  coun- 
sel at  his  command,  and  do  what  he  might 
to  quicken  any  latent  spark  of  energy. 
So  he  did  his  best,  and  that  was  all.  The 
struggle  lay  with  Hannah  Perrott. 

She  had  been  left  before,  and  more  than 
once  ;  but  then  the  periods  had  been  shorter, 
and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  things  had  fallen 
out  so  well,  that  scarce  more  than  a  meal 
here  and  there  had  had  to  be  missed, 
299 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

though,  when  they  came,  the  meals  were 
apt  to  be  but  of  crusts.  And  now  there  was 
more  trouble  ahead  ;  for  though  she  began 
her  lonely  time  with  but  one  small  child 
on  hand,  she  knew  that  ere  long  there 
would  be  two. 

Of  course,  she  had  worked  before  ;  not 
only  when  Josh  had  been  "  in  "  but  at 
other  times,  to  add  to  the  family  resources. 
She  was  a  clumsy  needlewoman  :  else  she 
might  hope  to  earn  some  ninepence  or  a 
shilling  a  day  at  making  shirts,  by  keeping 
well  to  the  needle  for  sixteen  hours  out  of 
the  twenty-four ;  and  from  the  whole  sum 
there  would  be  no  deductions  except  for 
needles  and  cotton,  and  what  the  frugal 
employer  might  choose  to  subtract  for  work 
to  which  he  could  devise  an  objection. 
But,  as  it  was,  she  must  do  her  best  to  get 
some  sack-making.  They  paid  one  and 
sevenpence  a  hundred  for  sacks.  With 
speed  and  long  hours  she  could  make  a 
hundred  in  four  days.  Rush  bag-making 
300 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

would  bring  even  more,  and  would  be  de- 
sirable, considering  the  three-and-sixpence 
a  week  for  rent,  which,  with  the  payments 
for  other  rooms,  made  the  rent  of  the 
crazy  den  in  Old  Jago  Street  about  equal, 
space  for  space,  to  that  of  a  house  in  Onslow 
Square.  Then  there  was  a  more  lucrative 
employment  still,  but  one  to  be  looked  for 
at  intervals  only  ;  one  not  to  be  counted  on 
at  all,  in  fact,  for  it  was  a  prize  and  many 
sought  after  it.  This  was  the  making  of 
match-boxes.  For  making  one  hundred 
and  forty-four  outside  cases  with  paper 
label  and  sandpaper,  and  the  same  number 
of  trays  to  slide  into  them — a  gross  of 
complete  boxes,  or  two  hundred  and  eighty- 
eight  pieces  in  all — one  got  twopence 
farthing ;  indeed,  for  a  special  size  one 
even  got  a  farthing  a  gross  more  ;  and  all 
the  wood  and  labels  and  the  sandpaper  were 
provided  free  :  so  that  the  fortunate  oper- 
ative lost  nothing  out  of  the  twopence 
farthing  but  the  cost  of  the  paste,  and  the 
301 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

string  for  tying  up  the  boxes  into  regular 
numbered  batches,  and  the  time  employed 
in  fetching  the  work  and  taking  it  back 
again.  And  if  seven  gross  were  to  be  got, 
and  could  be  done  in  a  day — and  it  was 
really  not  very  difficult  for  the  skillful  hand 
who  kept  at  work  long  enough  —  the 
day's  income  was  one  and  threepence 
three  farthings,  less  expenses  :  still  better 
that  than  the  shirts.  But  the  work  was 
hard  to  get.  As  the  public-spirited  manu- 
facturers complained :  people  would  buy 
Swedish  matches,  whereas  if  people  would 
support  home  industries  and  buy  no  matches 
but  theirs  they  would  be  able  to  order 
many  twopence-farthings  worth  of  boxes 
more. 

There  might  be  collateral  sources  of 
income,  but  these  were  doubtful  and  ir- 
regular. Probably  Dicky  would  bring  in 
a  few  coppers  now  and  again.  Then 
judicious  attendance  at  churches,  chapels 
and  prayer-meetings  beyond  the  Jago  bor- 
302 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

ders  was  rewarded  by  coal  tickets,  boots 
and  the  like.  It  was  necessary  to  know 
just  where  and  when  to  go  and  what  to 
say,  else  the  sole  result  might  be  loss  of 
time.  There  was  a  church  in  Bethnal 
Green,  for  instance,  which  it  would  be 
foolish  to  enter  before  the  end  of  the  Lit- 
any, for  then  you  were  in  good  time  to  get 
your  half-quarter  hundredweight  of  coals  ; 
but  at  other  places  they  might  object  to  so 
late  an  appearance.  Above  all,  one  must 
know  the  ropes.  There  were  several 
women  in  the  Jago  who  made  almost  a 
living  in  this  way  alone.  They  were  ex- 
perts ;  they  knew  every  fund,  every  meet- 
ing-house, all  the  comings  and  goings  of 
the  gullible ;  insomuch  that  they  would 
take  black  umbrage  at  any  unexpected 
difficulty  in  getting  what  they  demanded. 
"  Wy,*'  one  would  say,  "Pad  to  pitch  sich 
a  bleed*n'  'oly  tale  I  earned  it  twice  over." 
But  these  were  the  proficient,  and  pro- 
ficiency in  the  trade  was  an  outcome  of 
303 


A    CHILD    OF    THEJAGO 

long  experience  working  on  a  foundation 
of  natural  gifts ;  and  Hannah  Perrott 
could  never  hope  to  be  among  them. 

Turning  these  things  in  her  mind,  she 
addressed  herself  to  her  struggle.  She 
managed  to  get  some  sacks,  but  for  a  week 
or  two  she  could  make  nothing  like  twenty- 
five  a  day,  though  Dicky  helped.  Her 
fingers  got  raw ;  but  she  managed  to 
complete  a  hundred  within  the  first  week. 
They  might  have  been  better  done,  as  the 
employer  said  when  he  saw  them.  But 
she  got  her  full  one  and  sevenpence.  She 
pawned  her  boots  for  fourpence,  and  wore 
two  old  odd  ones  of  Josh's ;  and  she  got 
twopence  on  a  petticoat.  Dicky  also 
helped  a  Httle  ;  and  at  the  end  of  a  fort- 
night there  came  a  godsend  in  the  shape 
of  material  for  matchboxes.  Mrs.  Perrott 
was  slow  with  them  at  first ;  but  Dicky 
was  quick,  and  even  little  Em  began  to 
learn  to  spread  paste. 


304 


XXVII 

Dicky  grew  slighter  and  lanker,  dark 
about  the  eyes,  and  weaker.  He  was 
growing  longitudinally,  and  that  made  his 
lateral  wasting  the  quicker  and  the  more 
apparent.  A  furtive,  frighted  look  hung 
over  his  face,  a  fugitive  air  about  his 
whole  person.  His  mother's  long  face 
was  longer  than  ever,  and  blacker  under 
the  eyes  than  Dicky's  own,  and  her  weak, 
open  mouth,  hung  at  the  corners  as  that 
of  a  woman  faint  with  weeping.  Little 
Em's  knees  and  elbows  were  knobs  in  the 
midst  of  limbs  of  unnatural  length.  Rarely 
could  a  meal  be  seen  ahead ;  and  when  it 
came  it  made  Dicky  doubtful  whether  or 
not  hunger  were  really  caused  by  eating. 
But  his  chief  distress  was  to  see  that  little 
Em  cried  not  like  a  child,  but  silently,  as 
30s 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

she  strove  to  thread  needles  or  to  smear 
match-box  labels.  And  when  good  fortune 
brought  match-boxes,  there  was  an  undue 
loss  on  the  twopence  farthing  in  the 
matter  of  paste.  The  stuff  was  a  foul 
mess,  sour  and  faint,  and  it  was  kept  in  a 
broken  tea-cup,  near  which  Dicky  had 
detected  his  sister  sucking  her  fingers ;  for, 
in  truth,  little  Em  stole  the  paste. 

On  and  ofF,  by  one  way  and  another, 
Mrs.  Perrott  made  enough  to  keep  the  rent 
paid  with  indifferent  regularity,  and  some- 
times there  was  a  copper  or  so  left  over. 
She  did  fairly  well,  too,  at  the  churches 
and  prayer-meetings  ;  people  saw  her  con- 
dition, and  now  and  again  would  give  her 
something  beyond  the  common  dole  ;  so 
that  she  learned  the  trick  of  looking  more 
miserable  than  usual  at  such  places. 

The  roof  provided,  Dicky  felt  that  his 
was  the  task  to  find  food.  Alone,  he 
might  have  rubbed  along  clear  of  starva- 
tion, but  there  were  his  mother  and  his 
306 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    J  AGO 

sister.  Lack  of  victuals  shook  his  nerve 
and  made  him  timid.  Moreover,  his  terror 
grew  greater  than  ever  at  the  prospect  of 
being  caught  in  a  theft.  He  lay  awake  at 
night  and  sweated  to  think  of  it.  Who 
would  bring  in  things  from  the  outer  world 
for  mother  and  Em  then?  And  the  dan- 
ger was  worse  than  ever.  He  had  felt  the 
police-court  birch,  and  it  was  bad,  very 
bad.  But  he  would  take  it  every  day, 
and  take  it  almost  without  a  tear,  rather 
than  the  chance  of  a  reformatory.  Magis- 
trates were  unwilling  to  send  boys  to  re- 
formatories while  both  father  and  mother 
were  at  hand  to  control  them,  for  that  were 
relieving  the  parents  of  their  natural  re- 
sponsibility ;  but  in  a  case  like  Dicky's,  a 
"  schooling  "  was  a  very  likely  thing.  So 
that  Dicky,  as  he  prowled,  was  torn  be- 
tween implacable  need  and  the  fear  of  being 
cut  off  from  all  chances  of  supplying  it. 

It    was   his  rule  never  to   come   home 
without  bringing    something,  were   it   no 
307 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    J  A  GO 

more  than  a  mildewed  crust.  It  was  a 
resolve  impossible  to  keep  at  times,  but  at 
those  times  it  was  two  in  the  morning  ere 
he  would  drag  himself,  pallid  and  faint, 
into  the  dark  room  where  the  others  might 
be — probably  were  —  lying  awake  and 
unfed.  Rather  than  face  such  a  home- 
coming he  had  sometimes  ventured  on  a 
more  difficult  feat  than  stealing  in  the  outer 
world  :  he  had  stolen  in  the  Jago.  Sam 
Cash,  for  instance,  had  lost  a  bloater. 

Dicky  never  ate  at  Weech's  now. 
Rarely,  indeed,  would  he  take  payment  in 
kind,  unless  it  was  for  something  of  smaller 
value  than  the  average  of  his  poor  pilfer- 
ings  y  and  then  he  carried  the  food  home. 
But  cheaper  things  could  be  bought  else- 
where, so  that  more  usually  he  insisted  on 
money  payments  :  to  the  grief  of  Mr. 
Weech,  who  set  forth  the  odiousness  of 
ingratitude  at  length ;  though  his  homilies 
had  no  sort  of  effect  on  Dicky's  morals. 

Father  Sturt  saw  that  Hannah  Perrott 
308 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

gained  no  ground  in  her  struggle,  and 
urged  her  to  apply  for  outdoor  parish  re- 
lief, promising  to  second  her  request  with 
the  guardians.  But  with  an  odd  throwback  I 
to  the  respectability  of  her  boiler-making  \ 
ancestry,  she  disliked  the  notion  of  help 
from  the  parish,  and  preferred  to  remain  as 
she  was  ;  for  there,  at  least,  her  ingrained 
inertness  seemed  to  side  with  some  phan- 
tom of  self-respect.  To  her  present  posi- 
tion she  had^  subsided  by  almost  impercep- 
tible degrees,  and  she  was  scarce  conscious 
of  a  change.  But  to  parish  relief  there 
was  a  distinct  and  palpable  step :  a  step 
that,  on  the  whole,  it  seemed  easier  not  to 
take.  But  it  was  with  eagerness  that  she 
took  a  Maternity  Society's  letter,  where- 
with the  vicar  had  provided  himself  on  her 
behalf.     For  her  time  was  drawing  near. 


XXVIII 

Josh  Perrott  well  understood  the  ad- 
vantages of  good  prison-behaviour,  and 
after  six  months  in  his  Chelmsford  cell  he 
had  earned  the  right  to  a  visit  from  friends. 
But  none  came.  He  had  scarcely  ex- 
pected that  anybody  would,  and  asked  for 
the  order  merely  on  the  general  principle 
that  a  man  should  take  all  he  can  get, 
useful  or  not.  For  there  would  have  been 
a  five- shilling  fare  to  pay  for  each  visitor 
from  London,  and  Hannah  Perrott  could  as 
easily  have  paid  five  pounds.  And  indeed 
she  had  other  things  to  think  of. 

Kiddo  Cook  had  been  less  observed  of 

late  in  the  Jago.     In  simple  fact,  he  was 

at  work.     He  found  that  a  steady  week 

of  porterage  at  Spitalfields  market  would 

310 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

bring  him  sixteen  shillings  and  perhaps  a 
little  more;  and  he  had  taken  Father 
Sturt's  encouragement  to  try  another  week, 
and  a  week  after  that.  Father  Sturt,  too, 
had  cunningly  stimulated  Kiddo's  ambi- 
tions :  till  he  cherished  aspirations  to  a 
fruit  and  vegetable  stall,  with  a  proper 
tarpaulin  cover  for  bad  weather ;  though 
he  cherished  these  in  secret,  confident  that 
they  were  of  his  own  independent  con- 
ception. Perhaps  the  Perrotts  saw  as 
much  of  Kiddo  as  did  anybody  at  this 
time.  For  Kiddo,  seeing  how  it  went 
with  them  (though  indeed  it  went  as 
badly  with  others,  too),  laboriously  built 
up  a  solemn  and  most  circumstan- 
tial Lie.  There  was  a  friend  of  his, 
a  perfect  gentleman,  who  used  a  beer- 
shop  by  Spitalfields  Market,  and  who 
had  just  started  an  extensive  and  com- 
plicated business  in  the  general  provision 
line.  He  sold  all  sorts  of  fruit  and  vege- 
tables fresh,  and  all  sorts  of  meat,  car- 
3" 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

rots,  cabbages,  saveloys,  fried  fish  and 
pease-pudding  cooked.  His  motto  was  : 
"  Everything  ^the  best."  But  he  had  the 
misfortune  to  be  quite  unable  to  judge 
whether  his  goods  were  really  of  the  best 
or  not,  in  consequence  of  an  injury  to  his 
palate,  arising  from  a  blow  on  the  mouth 
with  a  quart  pot,  inflicted  in  the  heat  of 
discussion  by  a  wealthy  acquaintance.  So 
that  he,  being  a  perfect  gentleman,  had 
requested  Kiddo  Cook,  out  of  the  friend- 
ship he  bore  him,  to  drop  in  occasionally 
and  test  his  samples.  "  Take  a  good,  big 
whack,  you  know,"  said  he,  "  and  get  the 
advice  of  a  friend  or  two,  if  you  ain't 
sure."  So  Kiddo  would  take  frequent  and 
handsome  whacks  accordingly,  to  the  per- 
fect gentleman's  delight ;  and,  not  quite 
knowing  what  to  do  with  all  the  whacks, 
or  being  desirous  of  an  independent  opinion 
on  them  (there  was  some  confusion  be- 
tween these  two  motives)  he  would  bring 
Mrs.  Perrott  samples,  from  time  to  time, 
313 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

and  hope  it  would  n't  inconvenience  her. 
It  never  did. 

It  was  late  in  the  dusk  of  a  rainy  day 
that  Kiddo  Cook  stumped  into  Old  Jago 
Street  with  an  apple  in  his  pocket  for  Em. 
It  was  not  much,  but  money  was  a  little 
short,  and  at  any  rate  the  child  would  be 
pleased.  As  he  climbed  the  stairs  he  grew 
conscious  of  sounds  of  anguish,  muffled  by 
the  Perrott's  door.  There  might  have 
been  sobs,  and  there  seemed  to  be  groans ; 
certainly  little  Em  was  crying,  though  but 
faintly,  and  something  —  perhaps  boot- 
heels  —  scraped  on  the  boards.  Kiddo 
hesitated  a  little,  and  then  knocked  softly. 
The  knock  was  unnoticed,  so  in  the  end 
he  pushed  the  door  open. 

The  day  had  been  a  bad  one  with  the 
Perrotts.  Dicky  had  gone  out  early,  and 
had  not  returned.  His  mother  had  tramped 
unfed  to  the  sackmakers,  but  there  was 
no  work  to  be  got.  She  tried  the  rush 
bag  people,  with  a  like  result.  Nor  was 
313 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

any  match-box  material  being  given  out. 
An  unregarded  turnip  had  rolled  from  a 
shop  into  the  gutter,  and  she  had  seized  it 
stealthily.  It  was  not  in  nature  to  take 
it  home  whole,  and  once  a  corner  was 
cleared  she  dragged  herself  Jago-ward, 
gnawing  the  root  furtively  as  she  went. 
And  so  she  joined  Em  at  home  late  in  the 
afternoon. 

Kiddo  pushed  the  door  open  and  went  in. 
At  his  second  step  he  stood  staring,  and 
his  chin  dropped.  "  Good  Gawd  !  "  said 
Kiddo  Cook. 

He  cleared  the  stairs  in  three  jumps. 
He  stood  but  an  instant  on  the  flags  be- 
fore the  house,  with  a  quick  glance  each 
way,  and  then  dashed  ofF  through  the  mud. 

Pigeony  Poll  was  erratic  in  residence, 
but  just  now  she  had  a  room  by  the  roof 
of  a  house  in  Jago  Row,  and  up  the  stairs 
of  this  house  Kiddo  ran,  calling  her  by 
name. 

314 


A  CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

"Go  over  to  Perrott's,  quick!"  he 
shouted  from  the  landing  below  as  Poll 
appeared  at  her  door.  "  Run,  for  Gawd's 
sake,  or  the  woman  '11  croak !  I  *m  auf 
to  Father's."  And  he  rushed  away  to  the 
vicar's  lodgings. 

Father  Sturt  emerged  at  a  run,  and 
made  for  a  surgeon's  in  Shoreditch  High 
Street.  And  when  the  surgeon  reached 
Hannah  Perrott  he  found  her  stretched  on 
her  ragged  bed,  tended,  with  anxious  clum- 
siness, by  Pigeony  Poll;  while  little  Em, 
tearful  and  abashed,  sat  in  a  corner  and 
nibbled  a  bit  of  turnip. 

Hannah  Perrott  had  anticipated  the  op- 
eration of  the  Maternity  Society  letter,  and 
another  child  of  the  Jago  had  come  un- 
consenting  into  its  black  inheritance. 

Father  Sturt  met  the  surgeon  as  he 
came  away  in  the  later  evening,  and  asked 
if  all  were  well.  The  surgeon  shrugged 
his  shoulders.  "  People  would  call  it  so," 
he  said.  "  The  boy  's  alive,  and  so  is  the 
315 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

mother.  But  you  and  I  may  say  the 
truth.  You  know  the  Jago  far  better 
than  I.  Is  there  a  child  in  all  this  place 
that  would  n't  be  better  dead — still  better 
unborn  ?  But  does  a  day  pass  without 
bringing  you  just  such  a  parishioner  ? 
^Were  lies  the  Jago,  a  nest  of  rats,  breeding, 
!  breeding  as  only  rats  can ;  and  we  say  it  is 
well.  On  high  moral  grounds  we  uphold  the 
right  of  rats  to  multiply  their  thousands, 
sometimes  we  catch  a  rat.  And  we  keep 
it  a  little  while,  nourish  it  carefully,  and  put 
it  back  into  the  nest  to  propagate  its  kind.*' 
Father  Sturt  walked  a  little  way  in 
silence.  Then  he  said  :  "  You  are  right, 
of  course.  But  who  '11  listen,  if  you  shout 
it  from  the  housetops  ?  I  might  try  to 
proclaim  it  myself,  if  I  had  time  and  en- 
ergy to  waste.  But  I  have  none — I  must 
work;  and  so  must  you.  The  burden 
grows  day  by  day,  as  you  say.  The  thing's 
hopeless,  perhaps,  but  that  is  not  for  me 
to  discuss.  I  have  my  duty." 
316 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

The  surgeon  was  a  young  man,  but 
Shoreditch  had  helped  him  over  most  of  his 
enthusiasms.  "  That  *s  right,"  he  said, 
"  quite  right.  People  are  so  very  genteel, 
are  n*t  they  ?  "  He  laughed,  as  at  a  droll 
remembrance.  "  But,  hang  it  all,  men 
like  ourselves  need  n't  talk  as  though  the 
world  was  built  of  hardbake.  It  *s  a  mighty 
relief  to  speak  truth  with  a  man  who 
knows — a  man  not  rotted  through  with 
sentiment.  Think  how  few  men  we  trust 
with  the  power  to  give  a  fellow  creature  a 
year  in  gaol,  and  how  carefully  we  pick 
them  !  Even  damnation  is  out  of  fashion, 
I  believe,  among  theologians.  But  any 
noxious  wretch  may  damn  human  souls  to 
the  Jago,one  after  another,  year  in  year  out, 
and  we  respect  his  right :  his  sacred  right." 

At  the  "  Posties  "  the  two  men  sepa- 
rated. The  rain,  which  had  abated  for  a 
space,  came  up  on  a  driving  wind,  and 
whipped  Dicky  Perrott  home  to  meet  his 
new  brother. 

317 


XXIX 

Things  grew  a  little  easier  with  the 
Perrotts.  Father  Sturt  saw  that  there  was 
food  while  the  mother  was  renewing  her 
strength,  and  he  had  a  bag  of  linen  sent. 
More  ;  he  carried  his  point  as  to  parish  re- 
lief by  main  force.  It  was  two  shillings 
and  three  quartern  loaves  a  week.  Unfor- 
tunately, the  loaves  were  imprinted  with 
the  parish  mark,  or  they  might  have  been 
sold  at  the  chandler's,  in  order  that  the 
whole  measure  of  relief  might  be  passed  on 
the  landlord  (a  very  respectable  man,  with  a 
chandler's  shop  of  his  own)  for  rent.  As  it 
was,  the  bread  perforce  was  eaten,  and  the 
landlord  had  the  two  shillings,  as  well  as 
eighteenpence  which  had  to  be  got  in  some 
other  way.  Of  course,  Hannah  Perrott 
3x8 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

might  have  "taken  in  lodgers"  in  the 
room,  as  others  did,  but  she  doubted  her 
ability  to  bully  the  rent  out  of  them,  or  to 
turn  them  out  if  they  did  not  pay.  What- 
ever was  pawnable  had  gone  already,  of 
course,  except  the  little  nickel-plated 
clock.  That  might  have  produced  as  much 
as  sixpence,  but  she  had  a  whim  to  keep 
it.  She  regarded  it  as  a  memorial  of  Josh, 
for  it  was  his  sole  contribution  to  the 
family  appointments. 

Dicky,  with  a  cast-off  jacket  from  the 
vicar's  store,  took  to  hanging  about  Liver- 
pool Street  Station  in  quest  of  bags  to 
carry.  Sometimes  he  got  bags,  and  cop- 
pers for  carrying  them  ;  sometimes  he  got 
kicks  from  porters.  An  hour  or  two  of 
disappointment  in  this  pursuit  would  send 
him  off  on  the  prowl  to  "  find  "  new  stock 
for  Mr.  Weech.  He  went  farther  afield 
now ;  to  the  market-places  in  Mile  End 
and  Stepney,  and  to  the  riverside,  where 
there  were  many  chances — guarded  jeal- 
3^9 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

ously,  however,  by  the  pirate  boys  of  the 
neighbourhood,  who  would  tolerate  no 
interlopers  at  the  wharves.  In  the  very 
early  morning,  too,  he  practised  the  sand- 
bag fake,  in  the  Jago.  For  there  were 
those  among  the  Jagos  who  kept  (two 
even  bred)  linnets  and  such  birds,  and 
prepared  them  for  julking,  or  singing 
matches  at  the  Bag  of  Nails.  It  was  the 
habit  of  the  bird  fanciers  to  hang  their 
little  wooden  cages  on  nails  out  of  win- 
dow, and  there  they  hung  through  the 
night :  for  it  had  been  noticed,  as  a  sur- 
prising peculiarity  in  linnets,  that  a  bird 
would  droop  and  go  off  song  after  a  dozen 
or  so  of  nights  in  a  Jago  room,  in  company 
with  eight,  ten,  or  a  dozen  human  sleepers, 
notwithstanding  the  thoughtful  shutting 
of  windows.  So  that  any  early  riser  pro- 
vided with  a  little  bag  packed  with  a 
handful  or  so  of  sand,  could  become  an 
opulent  bird-owner  in  half  an  hour.  Let 
but  the   sand-bag   be  pitched  with  proper 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

skill  at  the  bottom  of  a  cage,  and  that 
cage  would  leave  the  nail,  and  come 
tumbling  and  fluttering  down  into  the 
ready  hands  of  the  early  riser.  The  sand- 
bag brought  down  the  cage  and  fell 
quietly  on  the  flags,  which  was  why  it 
was  preferred  before  a  stone.  The  sand- 
bag fakir  was  moved  by  no  particular  love 
of  linnets.  His  spoil  was  got  rid  of  as 
soon  as  the  bird-shops  opened  in  Club 
Row.  And  his  craft  was  one  of  danger. 
Thus  the  months  went  with  Dicky,  and 
the  years.  There  were  changes  in  the 
Jago.  The  baby  was  but  three  months 
old  when  Father  Sturt's  new  church  was 
opened,  and  the  club  set  going  in  new 
buildings ;  and  it  was  at  that  time  that 
Josh  Perrott  was  removed  to  Portland. 
Even  the  gradual  removal  of  the  Old  Jago 
itself  was  begun.  For  the  County 
Council  bought  a  row  of  houses  at  the 
end  of  Jago  Row,  by  Honey  Lane,  with 
a  design  to  build  big  barrack  dwellings  on 
321 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

the  site.  The  scenes  of  the  Jago  Court 
eviction  were  repeated,  with  less  governed 
antics.  For  the  County  Council  knew 
not  Jago  ways ;  and  when  deputations 
came  forth  weeping,  protesting  the  im- 
possibility of  finding  new  lodgings,  and 
beseeching  a  respite,  they  were  given 
six  weeks  more,  and  went  back  delighted 
into  free  quarters.  At  the  end  of  the  six 
weeks  a  larger  deputation  protested  a  little 
louder,  wept  a  great  deal  more,  and  poach- 
ed another  month  ;  for  it  would  seem  an 
unpopular  thing  to  turn  the  people  into 
the  street.  Thus,  in  the  end,  when  the 
unpopular  thing  had  to  be  done,  it  was 
with  sevenfold  trouble,  loud  cursing  of 
the  County  Council  in  the  public  street, 
and  many  fights.  But  this  one  spot  of 
the  Jago  cleared,  the  County  Council 
began  to  creep  along  Jago  Row  and  into 
Half  Jago  street ;  and  after  long  delay  the 
crude  yellow  brick  of  the  barrack  dwell- 


322 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

ings  rose  above  the  oft-stolen  hoardings, 
and  grew,  storey  by  storey.  Dicky  was 
fourteen,  fifteen,  sixteen.  If  Josh  Perrott 
had  only  earned  his  marks,  he  would  soon 
be  out  now. 


XXX 

Josh  Perrott  earned  his  marks,  and  in 
less  than  four  years  from  his  conviction 
he  came  away  from  Portland.  It  was  a 
mere  matter  of  hours  ere  his  arrival  in 
London,  when  Dicky,  hands  in  pockets, 
strolled  along  Old  Jago  Street,  and  by  the 
"  Posties"  to  High  Street. 

Dicky  was  almost  at  his  seventeenth 
birthday.  He  had  grown  his  utmost,  and 
stood  five  feet  two.  He  wore  a  cap  with 
a  cloth  peak  and  ear-laps  tied  at  the  top 
with  strings,  slap-up  kicksies,  cut  saucy, 
and  a  bob-tail  coat  of  the  out-and-out  de- 
scription; though  all  these  glories  were 
torn  and  shabby,  and  had  been  bought 
second-hand.  He  was  safe  from  any 
risk  of  the  reformatory  now,  being  well 
324 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    J  AGO 

over  the  age  ;  and  he  had  had  the  luck 
never  to  have  been  taken  by  the  police 
since  his  father's  lagging — though  there 
were  escapes  too  narrow  to  be  thought 
about  with  comfort.  It  was  a  matter 
for  wonderment  and  he  spoke  of  it  with 
pride.  Here  he  was,  a  man  of  long  ex- 
perience, and  near  seventeen  years  old, 
yet  he  had  never  been  in  prison.  Few, 
very  few  of  such  an  age,  could  say  that. 

Sometimes  he  saw  his  old  enemy,  the 
hunchback,  who  worked  at  a  shoemaker's, 
but  he  saw  him  with  unconcern.  He  cared 
nothing  for  tale-bearing  now.  The 
memory  of  old  injuries  had  dulled,  and, 
after  all,  this  was  a  merely  inconsiderable 
hunchback,  whom  it  were  beneath  his 
dignity  to  regard  with  anything  but  toler- 
ant indifference.  Bob  Roper  steered 
clear  at  such  encounters,  and  showed  his 
teeth,  like  a  cat,  and  looked  back  malev- 
olently.    It  did  n't  matter. 

Dicky  was  not  married,  either  in  the 
325 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

simple  Jago  fashion  or  in  church.  There 
was  little  difference,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
so  far  as  facility  went.  There  was  a 
church  in  Bethnal  Green  where  you 
might  be  married  for  sevenpence  if  you 
were  fourteen  years  old,  and  no  questions 
asked — or  at  any  rate  they  were  questions 
answers  whereunto  were  easy  to  invent. 
You  just  came  in,  drunk  if  possible,  with 
a  batch  of  some  scores,  and  rowdied 
about  the  church  with  your  hat  on,  and 
the  curate  worked  ofF  the  crowd  at  one 
go,  calling  the  names  one  after  another. 
You  sang,  or  you  shouted,  or  you  drank 
out  of  a  bottle,  or  you  flung  a  prayer-book 
at  a  friend,  as  the  fancy  took  you;  and 
;  \  the  whole  thing  was  not  a  bad  joke  for 
the  money,  though  after  all  sevenpence  is 
half-a-gallon,  and  not  to  be  wasted.  But 
Dicky  had  had  enough  to  do  to  look  after 
his  mother  and  Em  and  little  Josh  —  as 
Hannah  Perrott  had  called  the  baby. 
Dicky,  indeed,  had  a  family  already.  More  : 
326 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

the  Jago  girls  affected  him  with  an  odd 
feeling  of  repulsion.  Not  of  themselves, 
perhaps,  though  they  were  squalid  drabs 
long  ere  they  were  ripe  for  the  sevenpenny 
church:  but  by  comparison  with  the 
clean,  remote  shop-girls  who  were  visible 
through  the  broad  windows  in  the  outer 
streets. 

Dicky  intended  the  day  to  be  a  holiday. 
He  was  not  going  '  out,'  as  the  word  went, 
for  ill-luck  had  a  way  of  coming  on 
notable  days  like  this,  and  he  might 
easily  chance  to  '  fall '  before  his  father 
got  home.  He  was  almost  too  big  now 
for  carrying  bags  at  Liverpool  Street, 
because  small  boys  looked  cheaper  than 
large  ones — not  that  there  was  anything 
especially  large  about  Dicky,  beyond  his 
height  of  five  feet  two  ;  and  at  the 
moment  he  could  think  of  nothing  else 
that  might  turn  a  copper.  He  stood  ir- 
resolute on  the  High  Street  footway,  and 
as  he  stood,  Kiddo  Cook  hove  in  sight, 
327 


\h\ 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

dragging  a  barrow-load  of  carrots  and 
cabbages.  Kiddo  had  not  yet  compassed 
the  stall  with  the  rain-proof  awning.  But 
it  was  almost  in  sight,  for  the  barrow 
could  scarce  hold  all  that  he  could  sell ; 
and  there  was  a  joke  abroad  that  he  was 
to  be  married  in  Father  Sturt's  church; 
some  facetiously  suggesting  that  Mother 
Gapp  would  prove  a  good  investment  com- 
mercially, while  others  maintained  the 
greater  eligibility  of  old  Poll  Rann. 

" 'T  cheer,  Dicky!"  said  Kiddo, pulling 
up  and  wiping  his  cap-lining  with  a  red 
cotton  handkerchief.  "Ol'  man  out  to- 
day, ain't  *e  ?  " 

"  Yus,"  Dicky  answered.  "  'Spect  Mm 
up  to-night." 

Kiddo  nodded  and  wiped  his  face. 
"  S'pose  the  mob  '11  git  up  a  break  for 
'im,"  he  said ;  "  but  'e  '11  'ave  a  bit  o'  gilt 
from  stir  as  well,  won't  'e  .?  So  'e  '11  be 
awright."  And  Kiddo  stuffed  his  hand- 
kerchief into  his  trousers  pocket,  pulled 
328 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

his  cap  tight,  and    bent    to   his   barrow- 
handles. 

Dicky  turned  idly  to  the  left,  and 
slouched  to  the  corner  of  Meakin  Street. 
There  he  loafed  for  a  little  while,  and  then 
went  as  aimlessly  up  the  turning.  Meakin 
Street  was  much  as  ever.  There  were 
still  the  chandlers*  shops,  where  tea  and 
sugar  were^^  sold  by  the  farthingsworth,  and 
the  barber's  where  hair  was  fashionably 
cut  for  three  halfpence  :  though  Jago  hair 
was  commonly  cut  in  another  place  and  re- 
ceived little  more  attention.  There  was 
still  Walker's  cook-shop,  foggy  with  steam, 
its  windows  all  a-trickle,  and  there  was  the 
Original  Slap-up  Tog  Emporium,  with  its 
kicksies  and  its  benjamins  cut  saucy  as 
ever,  and  its  double  fakements  still  artful. 
At  the  "dispensary"  there  was  another 
young  student,  but  his  advice  and  medicine 
were  sixpence,  just  as  his  remote  predeces- 
sor's had  been  for  little  Looey,  long  for- 
gotten. And  farther  down  on  the  oppo- 
329 


A   CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

site  side,  Mr.  Aaron  Weech's  cofFee-shop, 
with  its  Sunday-school  festival  bills,  main- 
tained its  general  Band-of-Hope  air,  and 
displayed  its  shrivelled  bloaters,  its  doubt- 
ful cake  and  its  pallid  scones  in  an  odour 
of  respectability  and  stale  pickles.  Dicky 
glanced  in  as  he  came  by  the  door,  and 
met  the  anxious  eye  of  Mr.  Weech,  whom 
he  had  not  seen  for  a  fortnight.  For 
Dicky  was  no  boy  now,  but  knew  enough 
to  sell  at  Cohen's  or  elsewhere  whenever 
possible,  and  to  care  not  a  rap  for  Mr. 
Weech. 

As  that  tradesman  saw  Dicky,  he  burst 
into  an  eager  smile  and  came  forward. 
"Good  mornin'  —  er — '*  with  a  quick 
glance  —  "  Mr.  Perrott !  Good  mornin  '  ! 
You  're  quite  a  stranger,  reely  I  " 

Mister  F err  on  !  Mr.  Weech  was  very 
polite.  Dicky  stopped  and  grunted  a  cau- 
tious salutation. 

"  Do  come  in,  Mr.  Perrott.  W*y,  is 
the  good  noos  right  wot  I  'ear,  about  yer 
330 


A    CHILD    OF  THE   JAGO 

father  a-comin'  'ome  from  —  from  the 
country  ?  " 

Dicky  confirmed  the  news. 

"  Well  I  am  glad  t'  'ear  that  now."  Mr. 
Weech  grinned  exceedingly,  though  there 
was  something  lacking  in  his  delight. 
"  But  there,  wot  '11  you  'ave,  Mr.  Perrott ! 
Say  anythink  in  the  'ole  shop,  and  wel- 
come !  It 's  sich  an  'appy  occasion,  Mr. 
Perrott,  I  could  n't  think  o'  chargin'  you  a 
'a*penny.  'Ave  a  rasher,  now,  do.  There  *s 
one  on  at  this  very  moment.  Sairer  !  ain't 
that  rasher  done  yut  ?  " 

Dicky  did  not  understand  this  liber- 
ality, but  he  had  long  since  adopted  the 
policy  of  taking  all  he  could  get.  So  he 
sat  at  a  table,  and  Mr.  Weech  sat  opposite. 

"  Jist  like  ole  times,  ain't  it  ?  "  said  Mr. 
Weech.  "  An'  that  reminds  me  I  owe 
you  a  shillin'.  It  's  that  pair  o'  noo  boots 
you  chucked  over  the  back  fence  a  fort- 
night ago.  W'en  I  come  to  look  at  'em, 
they  was  better  'n  wot  I  thought,  an'  so  I 
331 


"^^ 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

says  to  meself,  '  This  won't  do,'  says  I. 
'  On'y  ninepence  for  a  pair  o'  boots  like 
them  ain*t  fair,*  I  says,  '  an*  I  *d  rayther  be 
at  a  lawss  on  *em  than  not  be  fair.  Fair  's 
fair,  as  the  apostle  David  says  in  the  Pro- 
verbs, an*  them  boots  is  worth  very  near 
one-a.n*-nine.  So  I  *11  give  Mr.  Perrott 
another  shillin*,'  I  says,  '  the  very  next 
time  I  see  *im,'  an'  there  it  is." 

He  put  the  shilling  on  the  table,  and 
Dicky  pocketed  it,  nothing  loth.  The 
thing  might  be  hard  to  understand,  but 
that  concerned  him  not.  There  was  the 
shilling.  Likewise,  there  was  the  bacon, 
and  the  coffee  that  went  with  it,  and  Dicky 
went  at  them  with  a  will,  reckoning  noth- 
ing of  why  they  were  there,  and  nothing 
of  any  matter  which  might  make  the  giver 
anxious  in  the  prospect  of  an  early  meet- 
ing with  Josh. 

"  Ah,**  Mr.  Weech  went  on,  "  It  '11  be 
quite  a  pleasure  to  see  yer  father  agin,  that 
it  will.  Wot  a  blessed  release  !  '  Free 
332 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

from  the  lor,  O  *appy  condition,'  as  the 
'ymn  says.  I  *ope  *e  *11  be  well  an'  *earty. 
An'  if —  if  there  should  be  anythink  in  the 
way  of  a  friendly  lead  or  a  subscription  or 
wot  not,  I  'ope  —  remember  this,  Mr. 
Perrott,  won'tcher  ?  — I  'ope  you  '11  let  me 
'ave  a  chance  to  put  down  somethink  good. 
Not  as  I  can  reely  afford  it,  ye  know,  Mr. 
Perrott  —  trade  's  very  pore,  an'  it 's  sich  a 
neighb'r'ood  !  —  but  I  '11  do  it  for  yer 
father  —  yus,  if  it 's  me  last  copper.  Ye 
won't  forgit  that,  will  ye  ?  An'  if  'e  'd 
like  any  little  relish  w'en  'e  comes  'ome 
—  sich  as  a  'addick  or  a  bit  o'  'am  —  w'y, 
I  '11  wrop  it  up  an'  send  it." 

This  was  all  very  handsome,  and  Dicky 
wished  some  notion  of  the  sort  had  oc- 
curred to  Mr.  Weech  on  a  few  of  the  din- 
nerless  days  of  the  past  four  years.  But 
he  went  away  wondering  if  it  might  not  be 
well  to  regard  Mr.  Weech  with  caution 
for  a  while.  For  there  must  be  a  reason 
for  all  this  generosity. 
333 


XXXI 

It  was  in  Mother  Gapp's  that  Josh 
Perrott  and  his  family  met.  Hannah  had 
started  out  with  an  idea  of  meeting  him  at 
Waterloo  Station ;  but,  finding  herself  an 
object  of  distinction  and  congratulation 
among  the  women  she  met,  she  had 
lingered  by  the  way,  accepting  many  little 
drops,  to  prove  herself  not  unduly  proud, 
and  so  had  failed  of  her  intent.  Josh,  on 
his  part,  had  not  been  abstinent.  He  had 
successfully  run  the  gauntlet  of  Prisoners' 
Aid  Societies  and  the  like,  professing  to 
have  'a  job  waiting  for  him'  in  Shore- 
ditch,  and  his  way  across  London  had 
been  freely  punctuated  at  public-houses; 
for  his  prison  gratuity  was  a  very  pleasant 
and  useful  little  sum.  And  now,  when  at 
334 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

last  they  met,  he  was  not  especially  gra- 
cious. He  wanted  to  know,  not  only  why 
he  had  found  nobody  at  home,  but  also 
why  Hannah  had  never  been  to  see  him  at 
Portland.  As  to  the  second  question,  the 
obvious  and  sufficient  answer  was  that  the 
return  fare  to  Portland  would  have  been 
some  twenty-five  shillings :  a  sum  that 
Hannah  had  never  seen  together  since 
Josh  left  her.  As  to  the  first,  she  pro- 
tested, with  muddled  vehemence,  that  she 
had  gone  to  meet  him,  and  had  missed  him 
by  some  mistake  as  to  arrival  platforms. 
So  that  at  length,  urged  thereto  by  the 
rest  of  the  hour's  customers  at  the  Feath- 
ers, Josh  kissed  her  sulkily,  and  ordered 
her  a  drink.  Em  was  distrustful  at  first, 
but  drank  her  allowance  of  gin  with  much 
relish,  tipping  the  glass  again  and  again  to 
catch  the  last  drop ;  and  little  Josh,  now 
for  the  first  time  introduced  to  Josh  the 
elder,  took  a  dislike  to  his  father's  not 
particularly  sober  glare  and  grin,  and  roared 
335 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

aloud  upon  his  knee,  assailing  him,  be- 
tween the  roars,  with  every  curse  familiar 
in  the  Jago,  amid  the  genial  merriment  of 
the  company.  Dicky  came  in  quietly  and 
stood  at  his  father's  elbow  with  the  pride 
natural  to  a  dutiful  son  on  such  an  occa- 
sion. And  at  closing-time  they  all  helped 
each  other  home. 

In  the  morning  Josh  rose  late.  He 
looked  all  the  better  for  his  lagging, 
browner  than  ever  in  his  face,  smarter  and 
stouter.  In  a  corner  he  perceived  a  little 
heap  of  made  match-boxes,  and,  hard  by, 
the  material  for  more.  It  was  Em*s  work 
of  yesterday  morning.  '  Support  'ome 
indajteries,*  said  Josh,  musingly.  '  Yus. 
Twopence-farden  a  gross.*  And  he  kicked 
the  heap  to  splinters. 

He  strolled  out  into  the  street,  to  sur- 
vey the  Jago.  In  the  bulk  it  was  little 
changed,  though  the  County  Council  had 
made  a  difference  in  the  north-east  corner, 
and  was  creeping  farther  and  farther  still. 
336 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

The  dispossessed  Jagos  had  gone  to  infect 
the  neighbourhoods  across  the  border,  and 
to  crowd  the  people  a  little  closer.  They 
did  not  return  to  live  in  the  new  barrack- 
buildings  ;  which  was  a  strange  thing,  for 
the  County  Council  was  charging  very 
little  more  than  double  the  rents  which 
the  landlords  of  the  old  Jago  had  charged. 
And  so  another  Jago,  teeming  and  villain- 
ous as  the  one  displaced,  was  slowly  grow- 
ing in  the  form  of  a  ring,  round  about  the 
great  yellow  houses.  But  the  new  church 
and  its  attendant  buildings  most  took  Josh's 
notice.  They  were  little  more  than  begun 
when  last  he  walked  Old  Jago  Street  in 
daylight,  and  now  they  stood,  large  and 
healthy  amid  the  dens  about  them,  a  won- 
der and  a  pride.  As  he  looked,  Jerry 
Gullen  and  Bill  Rann  passed. 

"  Wayo,    brother-in-law  !  "     sang    out 
Bill     Rann,    who    remembered    the    Old 
Bailey    fiction    of   four    years    back,   and 
thought  it  a  capital  joke. 
337 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

"  Nice  sort  o'  thing,  ain't  it  ? "  said 
Jerry  GuUen,  with  indignant  sarcasm, 
jerking  his  thumb  toward  the  new  church. 
"  The  street 's  clean  ruined.  Wot  *s  the 
good  o'  livin'  'ere  now  ?  W'y,  a  man 
must  n't  even  do  a  click,  blimy  !  " 

"  An'  doncher  ?  "  asked  Josh,  with  a 
grin.  Hereat  another  grin  broke  wide  on 
Jerry  Gullen's  face,  and  he  went  his  way 
with  a  wink  and  a  whistle. 

"  And  so  you  're  back  again.  Josh  Per- 
rott  ! "  said  old  Beveridge,  seedier  than 
ever,  with  the  •  Hard  Up '  fresh  chalked 
on  the  changeless  hat.  "  Back  again  ! 
Pity  you  could  n't  stay  there,  is  n't  it  ? 
Pity  we  can't  all  stay  there." 

Josh  looked  after  the  gaunt  old  figure 
with  much  doubt  and  a  vague  indignation  ; 
for  such  a  view  was  foreign  to  his  under- 
standing. And  as  he  looked  P'ather  Sturt 
came  out  of  the  church,  and  laid  his  hand 
on  Josh's  shoulder. 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  the  vicar,  "  home 
338 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

again  without  coming  to  see  me  !  But 
there,  you  must  have  been  coming.  I 
hope  you  have  n't  been  knocking  long  ? 
Come  in  now,  at  any  rate.  You  're  look- 
ing wonderfully  well.  What  a  capital 
thing  a  holiday  is,  is  n't  it  —  a  good  long 
one  ? "  Taking  Josh  by  the  arm  he 
hauled  him,  grinning,  sheepish  and  almost 
blushing,  toward  the  club  door.  And  at 
that  moment  Sam  Cash  came  hurrying  round 
Luck  Row  corner,  with  his  finger  through 
a  string,  and  on  that  string  a  bunch  of 
grouse. 

"  Dear  me,"  said  Father  Sturt,  turning 
back,  but  without  releasing  Josh's  arm. 
"  Here  *s  our  dear  friend,  Sam  Cash,  taking 
home  something  for  his  lunch.  Come, 
Sam,  with  such  a  fine  lot  of  birds  as  that, 
I  'm  sure  you  '11  be  proud  to  tell  us  where 
they  came  from.     Eh  ?  " 

For  a  moment  Sam  Cash  was  a  trifle 
puzzled,  even  offended.  Then  there  fell 
over  his  face  the  mask  of  utter  inexpres- 
339 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

sion,  which  the  vicar  had  learned  to  know 
well.  Said  Sam  Cash,  stolidly  :  "  I  bin 
*avin*  a  little  shootin'  with  a  friend/* 

"  Dear,  dear,  what  a  charming  friend  ! 
And  where  are  his  moors  ?  Nowhere 
about  the  Bethnal  Green  Road,  I  suppose, 
by  the  goods  depot  ?  Come  now,  I  'm 
sure  Josh  Perrott  would  like  to  know. 
You  did  n't  get  any  shooting  in  your  little 
holiday,  did  you.  Josh  ?  "  Josh  grinned, 
delighted,  but  Sam  shuffled  uneasily,  with 
a  hopeless,  sidelong  glance,  as  in  search  of 
a  hole  wherein  to  hide.  "  Ah,  you  see," 
Father  Sturt  said,  "  he  doesn't  want  his 
friend's  hospitality  to  be  abused.  Let  me 
see — two,  four,  six — why,  there  must  be 
nine  or  ten  brace,  and  all  at  one  shot,  too ! 
Sam  always  makes  his  bag  at  one  shot, 
you  know,  Josh,  whatever  the  game  is. 
Yes,  wonderful  shooting.  And  did  you 
shoot  the  label  at  the  same  time,  Sam  ? 
Come,  I  should  like  to  look  at  that 
label  !  " 

340 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

But  the  wretched  Sam  was  off  at  a  bolt, 
faster  than  a  police  pursuit  would  have 
sent  him,  while  Josh  guffawed  joyously. 
To  be  "  rotted  "  by  Father  Sturt  was  the 
true  Jago  terror,  but  to  the  Jagos  looking 
on  it  was  pure  delight.  Theft  was  a  piece 
of  the  Jago  nature ;  but  at  least  Father 
Sturt  could  wither  the  pride  of  it  by  such 
ridicule  as  the  Jago  could  understand. 

"There — he  's  very  bashful  for  a  sports- 
man, is  n't  he,  Josh  ?  "  the  vicar  pro- 
ceeded. "  But  you  must  come  and  see 
the  club  at  once.  You  shall  be  a  mem- 
ber.** 

Josh  spent  near  an  hour  in  the  new  build- 
ings. Father  Sturt  showed  him  the  club, 
the  night  shelter,  the  church,  and  his  own 
little  rooms.  He  asked,  too,  much  about 
Josh's  intentions  for  the  future.  Of 
course.  Josh  was  "  going  to  look  for  a 
job."  Father  Sturt  knew  he  would  say 
that.  Every  Jago  had  been  going  to  look 
for  a  job  ever  since  the  vicar  first  came  to 
341 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

the  place.  But  he  professed  to  take  Josh*s 
words  seriously,  and  offered  to  try  to  get 
him  taken  on  as  a  plasterer  at  some  of  the 
new  County  Council  buildings.  He  flat- 
tered Josh  by  reminding  him  of  his 
command  of  a  regular  trade.  Josh  was  a 
man  with  opportunities,  and  he  should  be 
above  the  pitiable  expedients  of  the  poor 
untradesmanlike  people  about  him.  In- 
deed, he  should  leave  the  Jago  altogether, 
with  his  family,  and  start  afresh  in  a  new 
place,  a  reputable  mechanic. 

To  these  things  Josh  Perrott  listened 
with  fidgety  deference,  answering  only, 
"  Yus,  Father,"  when  it  seemed  to  be 
necessary.  In  the  end  he  promised  to 
"think  it  over,"  which  meant  nothing,  as 
the  parson  well  knew.  And  in  the  mood 
in  which  Josh  came  away  he  would  gladly 
have  risked  another  lagging  to  serve 
Father  Sturt's  convenience ;  but  he  would 
rather  have  suffered  one  than  take  Father 
Sturt's  advice. 

3^2 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   J  AGO 

He  made  the  day  a  holiday.  He  had 
been  told  that  he  was  in  for  a  little  excite- 
ment, for  it  was  held  that  fitting  time  had 
arrived  for  another  scrap  with  Dove  Lane  ; 
but  the  affair  was  not  yet  moving.  Snob 
Spicer  had  broken  a  window  with  a  Dove- 
Laner's  head,  it  was  true,  but  nothing 
had  come  of  it,  and  etiquette  demanded 
that  the  next  card  should  be  played  by 
Dove  Lane.  For  the  present,  the  Jago 
was  content  to  take  thought  for  Josh's 
"  friendly  lead."  Such  a  thing  was  every- 
body's right  on  return  from  a  lagging,  and 
this  one  was  fixed  for  a  night  next  week. 
All  that  day  Mr.  Weech  looked  out 
anxiously,  but  Josh  Perrott  never  passed 
his  way. 


XXXII 

Bill  Rann  called  for  Josh  early  the 
next  morning,  and  they  strolled  down  Old 
Jago  Street  in  close  communion. 

"  Are  you  on  for  a  job  ?"  asked  Bill. 
"  *Cos  I  got  one  cut  an*  dried — a  topper, 
an'  safe  as  'ouses." 

"  Wot  sort  o*  job's  this  ?  " 

"  W'y  a  bust — unless  we  can  screw  it." 

This  meant  a  breaking-in,  with  a  pos- 
sibility of  a  quieter  entrance  by  means  of 
keys.  It  was  unpleasantly  suggestive  of 
Josh's  last  exploit,  but  he  answered : 
"  Awright.     Depends,  o'  course." 

"O,  it's  a  good  un."  Bill  Rann 
grinned  for  no  obvious  reason,  and  slap- 
ped his  leg  to  express  rapturous  amuse- 
ment. "  It 's  a  good  un  —  you  can  take 
344 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

yer  davy  o'  that.  I  bin  a  thinkin*  about 
it  for  a  fortnight,  but  it  wants  two. 
Damme,  it  *s  nobby!*'  And  Bill  Rann 
grinned  again,  and  made  two  taps  of  a 
step-dance.  "  Wotjer  think,"  he  pursued, 
suddenly  serious,  "  wotjer  think  o*  screw- 
in*  a  fence  ?  " 

It  was  a  novel  notion,  but  in  Josh's 
mind,  at  first  flush,  it  seemed  unsports- 
manlike.    "Wot  fence  ?"  asked  Josh. 

Bill  Rann's  grin  burst  wild  again.  He 
bent  low,  with  outstretched  chin,  and 
stuck  his  elbows  out  as  he  answered : 
"W'y,  ole  Weech!" 

Josh  bared  his  teeth  —  but  with  no 
smile  —  looking  sharply  in  the  other's 
upturned  face.  Bill  Rann,  bent  nearly 
double,  and  with  hands  in  pockets,  flapped 
his  arms  in  a  manner  of  wings,  chuckled 
aloud,  and,  jerking  his  feet  back  and  forth, 
went  elaborately  through  the  first  move- 
ment of  the  gallows-flap.  "  Eh  ?  eh  ?  " 
said  he.  "'Ow  's  that  strike  ve,ole  cock?" 
345 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

Josh  answered  not,  but  his  parted  lips 
stretched  wide,  and  his  tongue-tip  passed 
quickly  over  them  while  he  thought. 

"  It  '11  be  a  fair  cop  for  'im,"  Bill  pur- 
sued, eagerly.  "  'E  's  treated  us  all  pretty 
mean,  one  time  or  other.  W'y,  I  bet  'e 
owes  us  fifty  quid  atween  us,  wot  with  all 
the  times  'e  's  squeeged  us  for  a  bit.  It  '11 
on'y  be  goin'  to  bring  away  our  own  stuff! " 

"  G-r-r-r ! "  Josh  growled,  glaring 
fiercely ;  "  it  was  'im  as  put  me  away 
for  my  laggin'  !   Bleed'n'  swine  !  " 

Bill  Rann  stopped,  surprised.  "  Wot 
—  'im  ?  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Ole  Weech 
narked  ye  ?     '  Owjer  know  that  r  " 

Josh  told  the  tale  of  his  negotiations  in 
the  matter  of  the  Mogul's  watch,  and 
described  Weech's  terror  at  sight  of  his 
dash  at  the  shop-door.  "  I  'm  on,"  said 
Josh  in  conclusion.  "  It 's  one  way  o' 
payin'  'im,  an'  it  '11  bring  a  bit  in.  On'y 
'^  better  not  show  'isself  w'ile  I  'm  abaat ! 
'£  would  n't  git  auf  with  a  punch  on  the 
346 


A   CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

chin,  like  the  bloke  at  *ighbury  !  "  Josh 
Perrott  ended  with  a  tigerish  snarl  and  a 
white  spot  at  the  curl  of  each  of  his 
nostrils. 

"  Blimy  !  "  said  Bill  Rann  ;  "  an*  so  it 
was  'im,  was  it  ?  I  often  wondered  *oo 
you  meant.  Well,  flimpin'  'im  's  the  best 
way.  Won*t  'e  sing  a  bleed'n'  *ymn  w'en 
'e  finds  'is  stuff  weeded  ! "  Bill  flung  back 
his  head,  and  laughed  again.  "  But  there, 
let 's  lay  it  out."  And  the  two  men  fell  to 
the  discussion  of  methods. 

Weech's  back-fence  was  to  be  his  un- 
doing. It  was  the  obvious  plan.  The 
front  shutters  were  impracticable  in  such  a 
place  as  Meakin  Street ;  but  the  alleys  in 
the  rear  were  a  perfect  approach.  Bill 
Rann  had  surveyed  the  spot  attentively, 
and,  after  expert  consideration,  he  had 
selected  the  wash-)iouse  window  as  the 
point  of  entrance.  Old  boxes  and  packing- 
wood  littered  the  yard,  and  it  would  be 
easy  to  mount  a  selected  box,  shift  the 
347 


A   CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

catch  of  the  little  window,  and  wriggle  in, 
feet  first,  without  noise.  True,  the  door 
between  the  wash-house  and  the  other 
rooms  might  be  fastened,  but  it  could  be 
worked  at  under  cover ;  and  Bill  Rann 
had  a  belief  that  there  must  be  a  good  deal 
of  "  stuff"  in  the  wash-house  itself.  There 
would  be  nobody  in  the  house  but  Weech, 
because  the  wretched  old  woman,  who 
swept  the  floors  and  cooked  bloaters,  was 
sent  away  at  night ;  so  that  every  room 
must  be  unoccupied  but  one. 

As  for  tools,  Josh  had  none,  but  Bill 
Rann  undertook  to  provide  them ;  and  in 
the  matter  of  time  it  was  considered  that 
that  same  night  would  be  as  good  as  any. 
It  would  be  better  than  most,  in  fact,  for 
it  was  Wednesday,  and  Bill  Rann  had  ob- 
served that  Mr.  Weech  went  to  the  bank 
in  High  Street,  Shoreditch,  pretty  regularly 
on  Thursday  mornings. 

This  day  also  Mr.  Weech  kept  a  careful 
watch  for  Josh  Perrott,  but  saw  him  not. 
348 


XXXIII 

Hannah  Perrott  did  her  best  to  keep 
Josh  from  going  out  that  night.  She  did 
not  explain  her  objections,  because  she  did 
not  know  precisely  what  they  were,  though 
they  were  in  some  sort  prompted  by  his 
manner ;  and  it  was  solely  because  of  her 
constitutional  inability  to  urge  them  with 
any  persistence  that  she  escaped  forcible 
retort.  For  Josh  was  in  a  savage  and  self- 
centred  mood. 

"  W'y,  wot 's  up  ?  "  asked  Bill  Rann, 
when  they  met,  looking  doubtfully  in  his 
pal's  face.  "  You  ain't  bin  boozin',  'ave 
ye  ? " 

Josh  repelled  the  question  with  a  snarl. 
"  No  I  ain't,"  he  said.  "  Got  the  tools  ?  " 
There  was  a  thickness  in  his  voice,  with  a 
349 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

wildness  in  his  eye,  that  might  well  explain 
his  partner's  doubt. 

"  Yus.  Come  under  the  light.  I 
could  n't  git  no  twirls,  an'  we  shan't  want 
'em.  'Ere  's  a  screwdriver,  an'  two  gim- 
lets, an'  a  knife  for  the  winderketch,  an'  a 
little  James,  an'  a  neddy  — " 

"  A  neddy  !  "  Josh  cut  in,  scornfully 
pointing  his  thumb  at  the  instrument, 
which  some  call  life-preserver.  "  A  neddy 
for  Weech  !  G-r-r-r !  I  might  take  a 
neddy  to  a  man  !  " 

"  That 's  awright,"  Bill  replied.  "  But 
it  'ud  frighten 'im  pretty  well,  wouldn't 
it  ?  Look  'ere.  S'pose  we  can't  find  the 
oof.  W'y  should  n't  we  wake  up  Mr. 
Weech  very  quiet  an'  respeckful,  an'  ask 
'im  t*  'elp  us  ?  'E  's  all  alone,  an'  I  'm 
sure  'e  Ml  be  glad  to  'blige,  w'en  'e  sees 
this  'ere  neddy,  without  waitin'  for  a  tap. 
W'y,  blimy,  I  b'lieve  'e  'd  be  afraid  to  sing 
out  anv'ow,  for  fear  o'  bringin'  in  the 
coppers  to  find  all  the  stuff  'e  's  bought 
350 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

on  the  crook  !    It 's  all  done,  once  we're 
inside  !  " 

It  was  near  midnight,  and  Bill  Rann 
had  observed  Weech  putting  up  his  shut- 
ters at  eleven.  So  the  two  Jagos  walked 
slowly  along  Meakin  Street,  on  the  side  op- 
posite Weech^s,  with  sharp  eyes  for  the 
windows. 

All  was  quiet;  there  was  no  visible 
light  —  none  from  the  skylight  over  the  shop 
door,  none  from  the  window  above,  none 
from  the  garret  windows  above  that.  They 
passed  on,  crossed  the  road,  strolled  back, 
and  listened  at  the  door ;  there  was  no 
sound  from  within.  The  clock  in  a  dis- 
tant steeple  struck  twelve,  and  was  joined 
at  the  fourth  stroke  by  the  loud  bell  of  St. 
Leonards,  hard  by  \  and  ere  the  last  mild 
note  had  sounded  from  the  farthest  clock 
in  the  awakened  chorus.  Josh  Perrott  and 
Bill  Rann  had  taken  the  next  turning,  and 
were  pushing  their  way  to  the  alleys  be- 
hind Weech's. 

351 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

Foul  rat-runs,  these  alleys,  not  to  be 
traversed  by  a  stranger.  Josh  and  Bill 
plunged  into  one  narrow  archway  after  an- 
other, each  of  which  might  have  been  the 
private  passage  of  a  house,  and  came  at  last, 
stealthy  and  unseen,  into  the  muddy  yard. 

Weech's  back-fence  was  before  them, 
and  black  house-backs  crowded  them 
round.  There  were  but  one  or  two  lights 
in  the  windows,  and  those  windows  were 
shut  and  curtained.  The  rear  of  Weech's 
house  was  black  and  silent  as  the  front. 
They  peered  over  the  fence.  The  yard 
was  pitch  dark,  but  faint  angular  tokens 
here  and  there  told  of  heaped  boxes  and 
lumber.  "  We  won't  tip  'im  the  whistle 
this  time,"  whispered  Bill  Rann,  with  a 
smothered  chuckle.     "  Over  !  " 

He  bent  his  knee,  and  Josh  straddled 
from  it  over  the  rickety  fence  with  quietj 
care,  and  lowered  himself  gingerly  on  th( 
other  side.  "  Clear  'ere,"  he  whispered. 
"  Come  on."  Since  Bill's  display  of  th< 
352 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

tools  Josh  had  scarce  spoken  a  word. 
Bill  wondered  at  his  taciturnity,  but  re- 
spected it  as  a  business-like  quality  in  the 
circumstances. 

It  was  but  a  matter  of  four  or  five  yards 
to  the  wash-house  window,  but  they  bent 
and  felt  their  way.  Josh  took  up  an  old 
lemonade-case  as  he  went,  and  planted  it 
on  the  ground  below  the  window,  stretch- 
ing his  hand  for  the  knife  as  he  did  so. 
And  now  he  took  command  and  foremost 
place. 

It  was  an  old  shoemaker's  knife,  with 
too  long  a  handle  ;  for  there  was  a  skew- 
joint  in  the  sash,  and  the  knife  would  not 
bend.     Presently  Bill  Rann,  below,  could 
see  that  Josh  was  cutting  away   the  putty 
1  from   the   pane,  and  in   five  minutes   the 
!  pane  itself  was    put  into    his  hand.     He 
I  stooped,  and  laid  it  noiselessly  on  the  soft 
j  ground. 

!  Josh  turned  the  catch  and  lifted  the 
1  sash.  There  was  some  noise,  but  not 
353 


ACHILDOFTHEJAGO 

much,  as  he  pushed  the  frame  up  evenly, 
with  a  thumb  at  each  side.  They  waited, 
but  it  was  quiet  still,  and  Josh,  sitting  on 
the  sill,  manoeuvred  his  legs,  one  at  a  time, 
through  the  narrow  opening.  Then,  turn- 
ing over,  he  let  himself  down  and  beck- 
oned Bill  Rann  to  follow. 

Bill  Rann  had  a  small  tin  box,  with  an 
inch  of  candle  on  the  inside  of  one  end,  so 
that  when  the  wick  was  lit  the  contrivance 
made  a  simple  but  an  effective  lantern, 
the  light  whereof  shone  in  front  alone, 
and  could  be  extinguished  at  a  pufF.  Now 
a  match  was  struck,  and  a  quick  view 
taken  of  the  wash-house. 

There  was  not  much  about;  only 
cracked  and  greasy  plates,  jars,  tins,  pots; 
and  pans,  and  in  a  corner  a  miscellaneous 
heap,  plainly  cheap  pilferings  covered  withj 
a  bit  of  old  carpet.  The  air  was  offensive 
with  the  characteristic  smell  of  Weech'i 
—  the  smell  of  stale  pickles. 

"There    ain't    nothin'   to    waste    tim< 
354 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

over  'ere,"  said  Josh  aloud.  "  Come 
on!" 

"  Shut  up,  you  damn  fool  !  "  exclaimed 
Bill  Rann,  in  a  whisper.  "D*jer  want  to 
wake  'im  ?  " 

"  Umph  !  Why  not  ?  "  was  the  reply, 
still  aloud.  Bill  began  to  feel  that  his 
pal  was  really  drunk.  But,  silent  once 
more.  Josh  applied  himself  to  the  door  of 
the  inner  room.  It  was  crank  and  old, 
worn  and  battered  at  the  edges.  Josh 
forced  the  wedge  end  of  the  jimmy 
through  the  jamb,  splintering  the  perished 
wood  of  the  frame,  and,  with  a  push, 
forced  the  striking-box  of  the  lock  ofF  its 
screws.  There  was  still  a  bolt  at  the 
top ;  that  at  the  bottom  had  lost  its  catch 
—  but  this  gave  as  little  trouble  as  the 
lock.  Bill  Rann  strained  the  door  open 
from  below,  the  jimmy  entered  readily, 
and  in  a  few  seconds  the  top  bolt  was  in 
like  case  with  the  bottom. 

They  entered  the  room  behind  the 
355 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    J  AGO 

shop,  and  it  was  innocent  and  disappoint- 
ing. A  loo  table,  four  horse-hair-covered 
chairs,  a  mirror,  three  coloured  wall-texts, 
two  china  figures  and  a  cheap  walnut  side- 
board—  that  was  all.  The  slow  step  of 
a  policeman  without  stopped,  with  a  push 
at  the  shop-door,  to  test  its  fastenings,  and 
then  went  on  ;  and  stronger  than  ever  was 
the  smell  of  stale  pickles. 

To  try  the  shop  would  be  mere  waste 
of  time.  Weech's  pocket  was  the  till, 
and  there  could  be  no  other  prize.  A 
door  at  the  side  of  the  room,  latched  sim- 
ply, gave  on  the  stair.  '*•  Take  auf  yer 
boots,"  Bill  whispered,  unlacing  his  own, 
and  slinging  them  across  his  shoulder  by 
the  tied  laces. 

But  Josh  would  not,  and  he  said  so, 
with  an  oath.  Bill  could  not  understand 
him.  Could  it  be  drink  ?  Bill  wished 
him  a  mile  away.  "  Awright,"  he  whis- 
pered, "  you  set  down  *ere  w*ile  I  slip 
upstairs  an*  take  a  peep.  I  bet  the 
356 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

stuff'  s  in  the  garret.  Best  on'y  one  goes, 
quiet." 

Josh  sat,  and  Bill,  taking  his  lantern, 
crept  up  the  stairs  noiselessly,  save  for  one 
creak.  He  gained  the  stair-head,  listened 
a  moment,  tip-toed  along  the  small  land- 
ing, and  was  half-way  up  the  steep  and 
narrow  garret-stairs,  when  he  heard  a 
sound,  and  stopped.  Somebody  was  on 
the  lower  flight. 

There  was  a  heavy  tread,  with  the  kick 
of  a  boot  against  stair  or  skirting-board  ; 
and  then  came  noisy  steps  along  the  land- 
ing. Josh  was  coming  up  in  his  boots  ! 
Bill  Rann  was  at  his  wits'  end.  He 
backed  down  the  garret-stair,  and  met  Josh 
at  the  foot.  "  Are  ye  balmy  ?  "  he  hissed 
fiercely,  catching  Josh  by  the  collar  and 
pulling  him  into  the  turn  of  the  stairs. 
"  D'ye  want  another  five  stretch  ? " 

A  loud  creak  and  a  soft  thump  sounded 
from  behind  the  door  at  the  other  end  of 
the  landing  ;  and  then  a  match  was  struck. 
357 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    J  AGO 

"  Keep  back  on  the  stairs,"  Bill  whispered. 
"  *E  's  'card  you."  Josh  sat  on  a  stair, 
perfectly  still,  with  his  legs  drawn  up  out 
of  sight  from  the  door.  Bill  blew  out  his 
light.  He  would  not  venture  open  in- 
timidation of  Weech  now,  with  Josh  half 
muzzy,  lest  some  burst  of  lunacy  bring 
in  the  police. 

A  soft  treading  of  bare  feet,  the  squeak 
of  a  door-handle,  a  light  on  the  landing, 
and  Aaron  Weech  stood  at  his  open  door 
in  his  shirt,  candle  in  hand,  his  hair 
rumpled,  his  head  aside,  his  mouth  a  little 
open,  his  unconscious  gaze  upward;  list- 
ening intently.  He  took  a  slight  step 
forward.  And  then  Bill  Rann's  heart 
turned  over  and  over. 

For  Josh  Perrott  sprang  from  the  stair, 
and,  his  shoulders  humped  and  his  face 
thrust  out,  walked  deliberately  across  the 
landing.  Weech  turned  his  head  quickly ; 
his  chin  fell  on  his  chest  as  by  jaw-break; 
there  were  but  dots  amid  the  white  of  his 
358 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

eyes ;  his  head  lay  slowly  back,  as  the 
candle  tilted  and  shot  its  grease  on  the 
floor.  The  door  swung  wider  as  his 
shoulder  struck  it,  and  he  screamed,  like 
a  rabbit  that  sees  a  stoat.  Then,  with  a 
wrench,  he  turned,  letting  drop  the  candle, 
and  ran  shrieking  to  the  window,  flung  it 
open,  and  yelled  into  the  black  street. 
"  'Elp  !  'Elp  !  P'lice  !  Murder!  Murder! 
Murder!    Murder!'' 

"  Run,  Josh  —  run,  ye  blasted  fool !  " 
roared  Bill  Rann,  bounding  across  the 
landing,  and  snatching  at  his  arm. 

"  Go  on  —  go  on  !  I  'm  comin' !  *'  Josh 
answered  without  turning  his  head.  And 
Bill  took  the  bottom  flight  at  a  jump. 
The  candle  flared  as  it  lay  on  the  floor, 
and  spread  a  greasy  pool  about  it. 

"  Murder  !  Murder  !  Mu-r-r-r — " 

Josh  had  the  man  by  the  shoulder, 
swung  him  back  from  the  window,  grip- 
ped his  throat,  and  dragged  him  across  the 
carpet  as  he  might  drag  a  cat,  while 
359 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

Weech's  arms  waved  uselessly,  and  his 
feet  feebly  sought  a  hold  on  the  floor. 

"  Now  !  '*  cried  Josh  Perrott,  glaring 
on  the  writhen  face  below  his  own,  and 
raising  his  case-knife  in  the  manner  of  a 
cleaver,  "  sing  a  hymn  !  Sing  the  hymn 
as  *11  do  ye  most  good  !  You  '11  cheat 
me  when  ye  can,  an*  when  ye  can't  you  '11 
put  me  five  year  in  stir,  eh  ?  Sing  a 
hymn,  ye  snivellin'  nark  !  " 

From  the  street  there  came  the  noise 
of  many  hurrying  feet  and  of  a  scattered 
shouting.  Josh  Perrott  made  an  offer  at 
slashing  the  slaty  face,  checked  his  arm, 
and  went  on. 

"  You  '11  put  down  somethin'  'an'some 
at  my  break,  will  ye  ?  An'  you  '11  starve 
my  wife  an'  kids  all  to  bones  an'  teeth 
four  year  !      Sing  a  hymn,  ye  cur  !" 

He  made  another  feint  at  slashing. 
Men  were  beating  thunderously  at  the 
shop  door,  and  there  were  shrill  whistles. 

"Won't  sing  yer  hymn?  There  ain't 
360 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

much  time  !  My  boy  was  goin'  straight, 
an'  earnin'  wages :  someone  got  'im 
chucked.  A  man  *as  time  to  think  things 
out,  in  stir  !  Sing,  ye  son  of  a  cow  ! 
Sing  !  Sing  !  " 

Twice  the  knife  hacked  the  livid  face. 
But  the  third  hack  was  below  the  chin ; 
and  the  face  fell  back. 

The  bubbling  Thing  dropped  in  a 
heap,  and  put  out  the  flaring  candle. 
Without,  the  shouts  gathered  to  a  roar, 
and  the  door  shook  under  heavy  blows. 
"  Open  —  open  the  door  !  "  cried  a  deep 
voice. 

He  looked  from  the  open  window. 
There  was  a  scrambling  crowd,  and  more 
people  were  running  in.  Windows 
gaped,  and  thrust  out  noisy  heads.  The 
flash  of  a  bull's-eye  dazzled  him,  and  he 
staggered  back.  "  Perrott  !  Perrott !  " 
came  a  shout.  He  had  but  glanced  out, 
but  he  was  recognized. 

He  threw  down  his  knife,  and  made 
361 


A   CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

for  the  landing,  slipping  on  the  wet  floor 
and  stumbling  against  the  Heap.  There 
were  shouts  from  behind  the  house  now  ; 
they  were  few,  but  they  were  close.  He 
dashed  up  the  narrow  stairs,  floundered 
through  the  back  garret,  over  bags  and 
boxes  and  heaps  of  mingled  commodities, 
and  threw  up  the  sash.  Men  were 
stumbling  invisibly  in  the  dark  yard  be- 
low. He  got  upon  the  sill,  swung  round 
by  the  dormer-frame,  and  went,  hands  and 
knees,  along  the  roof.  Yells  and  loud 
whistles  rose  clamant  in  the  air,  and  his 
own  name  was  shouted  to  and  fro.  Then 
the  blows  on  the  shop-door  ceased  with  a 
splintering  crash,  and  there  was  a  tramp- 
ling of  feet  on  floor  boards. 

The  roofs  were  irregular  in  shape  and 
height,  and  his  progress  was  slow.  He 
aimed  at  reaching  the  roof  of  Father 
Sturt's  old  club  building,  still  empty.  He 
had  had  this  in  mind  from  the  moment  he 
climbed  from  the  garret-window;  for  in 
362 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

the  work  of  setting  the  drains  in  order  an 
iron  ventilating  pipe  had  been  carried  up 
from  the  stable-yard  to  well  above  the 
roof.  It  was  a  stout  pipe,  close  by  the 
wall,  to  which  it  was  clamped  with  iron 
attachments.  Four  years  had  passed 
since  he  had  seen  it,  and  he  trusted  to 
luck  to  find  it  still  standing,  for  it  seemed 
his  only  chance.  Down  below  people 
scampered  and  shouted.  Crowds  had 
sprung  out  of  the  dark  night,  as  by 
magic ;  and  the  police  —  they  must  have 
been  lying  in  wait  in  scores.  It  seemed  a 
mere  matter  of  seconds  since  he  had  scaled 
the  back  fence ;  and  now  people  were 
tearing  about  the  house  behind  him,  and 
shouting  out  of  windows  to  those 
below.  He  hoped  that  the  iron  pipe 
might  not  be  gone. 

Good  —  it  was  there.     He  peered  from 

the  parapet  down  into  the  stable-yard,  and 

the  place  seemed  empty.      He  gripped  the 

pipe  with  hands  and  knees,  and  descended. 

363 


A   CHILD    OF  THE   JAGO 

The  alley  had  no  back  way :  he  must 
take  his  chance  in  Meakin  Street.  He 
peeped.  At  the  street  end  there  was  a 
dark  obstruction  set  with  spots  of  light :  a 
row  of  police.  That  way  was  shut  j  he 
must  try  the  Jago  —  Luck  Row  was 
almost  opposite,  and  no  Jago  would  be- 
tray him.  The  hunters  were  already  on 
the  roofs.  Men  shouted  up  to  them  from 
the  street,  and  kept  pace  with  them, 
coming  nearer.  He  took  a  breath  and 
dashed  across,  knocking  a  man  over  at 
the  corner. 

Up  Luck  Row,  into  Old  Jago  Street  he 
ran,  past  his  own  home,  and  across  to  a 
black  doorway,  just  as  Father  Sturt,  roused 
by  the  persistent  din,  opened  his  window. 
The  passage  was  empty,  and  for  an  instant 
he  paused,  breathless.  But  there  were 
howls  without,  and  the  pelting  of  many  feet. 
The  man  knocked  over  at  the  corner  had 
given  the  alarm,  and  the  hunt  was  up. 

Into  the  back-yard  and  over  the  fence ; 
364 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

through  another  passage  into  New  Jago 
Street ;  with  a  notion  to  gain  the  courts  by 
Honey  Lane  and  so  away.  But  he  was 
thinking  of  the  Jago  as  it  had  been — he 
had  forgotten  the  demolishment.  As  he 
neared  Jago  Row  the  place  of  it  lay  sud- 
denly before  him — an  open  waste  of 
eighty  yards  square,  skirted  by  the  straight 
streets  and  the  yellow  barracks,  with  the 
Board  School  standing  dark  among  them. 
And  along  the  straight  streets  more  men 
were  rushing,  and  more  police.  They 
were  newcomers  ;  why  not  venture  over  ? 
He  rubbed  his  cheek,  for  something  like  a 
film  of  gum  clung  to  it.  Then  he  remem- 
bered, and  peered  closely  at  his  hands. 
Blood,  sticking  and  drying  and  peeling ; 
blood  on  hands  and  face,  blood  on  clothes, 
without  a  doubt.  To  go  abroad  thus  were 
to  court  arrest,  were  he  known  or  not 
known.  It  must  be  got  off ;  but  how  ? 
To  go  home  was  to  give  himself  up. 
The  police  were  there  long  since  —  they 
36s 


A   CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

swarmed  the  Jago  through.  Some  half- 
dismantled  houses  stood  at  hand,  and  he 
made  for  the  nearest. 

There  were  cellars  under  these  houses, 
reached  from  the  back-yards.  Many  a 
Jago  had  been  born,  had  lived,  and  had 
died  in  such  a  place.  A  cellar  would  hide 
him  for  an  hour,  while  he  groped  himself 
clean  as  he  might.  Broken  brickwork 
littered  the  space  that  had  been  the  back- 
yard. Feeling  in  the  dark  for  the  steps, 
which  stood  in  a  little  pit,  his  foot  turned 
on  a  stone,  and  he  pitched  headlong. 

The  cellar  itself  was  littered  with  rub- 
bish, and  he  lay  among  it  a  little  while, 
breathless  and  bruised.  When  he  tried  to 
raise,  he  found  his  ankle  useless.  It  was 
the  old  sprain,  got  at  Mother  Gapp*s  be- 
fore his  lagging,  and  ever  ready  to  assert 
itself.  He  sat  among  the  brickbats  to 
pull  off  the  boot  —  that  was  foul  and 
sticky  too  —  and  he  rubbed  the  ankle.  He 
had  been  a  fool  to  think  of  the  cellar : 
366 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

why  not  any  corner  among  the  walls 
above  ?  He  had  given  away  to  the  mere 
panic  instinct  to  burrow,  to  hide  himself 
in  a  hole,  and  he  had  chosen  one  where- 
from  there  was  no  second  way  of  escape 
—  none  at  all  but  by  the  steps  he  had 
fallen  in  at.  Far  better  to  have  struck  out 
boldly  across  the  streets  by  Columbia 
Market  to  the  Canal:  who  could  have 
seen  the  smears  in  the  darkness  ?  And  in 
the  canal  he  might  have  washed  the  lot 
away,  secure  from  observation,  under  a 
bridge.  The  thing  might  be  possible, 
even  now,  if  he  could  stand  the  pain.  But 
no,  the  foot  was  useless  when  he  tried  it. 
He  was  trapped  like  a  rat.  He  rubbed 
and  kneaded  the  ankle  diligently,  and  man- 
aged to  draw  the  boot  on.  But  stand  on 
both  legs  he  could  not.  He  might  have 
crawled  up  the  steps  on  hands  and  knees, 
but  what  was  the  use  of  that  ?  So  he  sat, 
and  waited. 

Knots  of  men  went  hurrying  by,  and  he 
367 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

caught  snatches  of  their  talk.  There  had 
been  a  murder — a  man  was  murdered  in 
his  bed — it  was  a  woman — a  man  had 
murdered  his  wife — there  were  two  mur- 
ders—  three  —  the  tale  went  every  way, 
but  it  was  always  Murder,  Murder,  Mur- 
der. Everybody  was  saying  Murder :  till 
in  the  passing  footsteps,  in  the  vague 
shouts  in  the  distance,  and  presently  in 
the  mere  black  about  him  he  heard  the 
word  still  —  Murder,  Murder,  Murder. 
He  fell  to  contrasting  the  whispered  fancy 
with  the  real  screams  in  that  bedroom. 
He  wondered  what  Bill  Rann  thought  of 
it  all,  and  what  had  become  of  the  james 
and  the  gimlets.  He  pictured  the  crowd 
in  Old  Jago  Street,  pushing  it  into  his 
room,  talking  about  him,  telling  the  news. 
He  wondered  if  Hannah  had  been  asleep 
when  they  came,  and  what  she  said  when 
they  told  her.  And  more  people  hurried 
past  the  ruined  house,  all  talking  Murder, 
Murder,  still  Murder. 
368 


I 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

The  foot  was  horribly  painful.  Was  it 
swelling  ?  Yes,  he  thought  it  was ;  he 
rubbed  it  again.  What  would  Dicky  do  ? 
If  only  Dicky  knew  where  he  was !  That 
might  help.  There  was  a  new  burst  of 
shouts  in  the  distance.  What  was  that  ? 
Perhaps  they  had  caught  Bill  Rann ;  but 
that  was  unlikely.  They  knew  nothing 
of  Bill  —  they  had  seen  but  one  man. 
Perhaps  they  were  carrying  away  the  Heap 
on  a  shutter :  that  would  be  no  nice  job, 
especially  down  the  steep  stairs.  There 
had  been  very  little  in  the  wash-house,  and 
nothing  in  the  next  room ;  the  garrets 
were  pretty  full  of  odd  things,  but  no 
doubt  the  money  was  in  the  bedroom.  The 
smell  of  stale  pickles  was  very  strong. 

So  his  thoughts  chased  one  another  — 
eager,  trivial, crowded — till  hisheadached 
with  their  splitting  haste.  To  take  heed 
for  the  future,  to  plan  escape,  to  design  ex- 
pedients —  these  were  merely  impossible, 
sitting  there  inactive  in  the  dark.  He 
369 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

thought  of  the  pipe  he  had  slid  down,  what 
it  cost,  why  they  put  it  there,  who  the 
man  was  that  he  ran  against  at  Luck 
Row,  whether  or  not  he  hurt  him,  what 
the  police  would  do  with  the  bloaters  and 
cake  and  bacon  at  the  shop,  and,  again,  of 
the  smell  of  stale  pickles. 

Father  Sturt  was  up  and  dressed,  stand- 
ing guard  on  the  landing  outside  the  Per- 
rotts*  door.  The  stairs  were  full  of  Jagos 
—  mostly  women — constantly  joined  by 
new-comers,  all  anxious  to  batter  the  door 
and  belabour  the  hidden  family  with  noisy 
sympathy  and  sedulous  inquiries  :  all,  that 
is,  except  the  oldest  Mrs.  Walsh  in  the 
Jago,  who,  possessed  by  an  unshakable 
conviction  that  Josh's  wife  must  have 
"  druv  *im  to  it,"  had  come  in  a  shawl  and 
a  petticoat  to  give  Hannah  a  piece  of  her 
mind.  But  all  were  driven  back  and  sent 
grumbling  away  by  Father  Sturt. 

Every  passage  from  the  Jago  was  held 
370 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

by  the  police,  and  a  search  from  house  to 
house  was  begun.  With  clear  consciences 
the  Jagos  all  could  deny  any  knowledge  of 
Josh  Perrott's  whereabouts  ;  but  a  clear 
conscience  was  little  valued  in  those  parts, 
and  one  after  another  affirmed  point  blank 
that  the  man  seen  at  the  window  was  not 
Perrott  at  all,  but  a  stranger  who  lived  a  long 
way  ofF.  This,  of  course,  less  by  way  of 
favouring  the  fugitive  than  of  baffling  the 
police  :  the  Jago's  first  duty.  But  the 
police  knew  the  worth  of  such  talk,  and 
the  search  went  on. 

Thus  it  came  to  pass  that  in  the  grey 
of  the  morning  a  party  in  New  Jago 
Street,  after  telling  each  other  that  the 
ruins  must  be  carefully  examined,  climbed 
among  the  rubbish  and  were  startled  by  a 
voice  from  underground:  "Awright," 
cried  Josh  Perrott  in  the  cellar.  "  I  *m 
done  ;  it 's  a  cop.  Come  an'  'elp  me  out 
o'  this  'ole." 


371 


XXXIV 

The  Lion  and  the  Unicorn  had  been 
fresh  gilt  since  he  was  there  before,  but 
the  white-headed  old  gaoler  in  the  dock 
was  much  the  same.     And  the  big  sword 

—  what  did  they  have  a  big  sword  for, 
stuck  up  there,  over  the  red  cushions,  and 
what  was  the  use  of  a  sword  six  foot  long  ? 
But  perhaps  it  was  n't  six  foot  after  all  — 
it  looked  longer  than  it  was  ;  and  no  doubt 
it  was  only  for  show,  and  probably  a 
dummy  with  no  blade.  There  was  a  well- 
dressed  black  man  sitting  down  below 
among  the  lawyers.  What  did  he  want  ? 
Why  did  they  let  him  in  ?     A  nice  thing 

—  to  be  made  a  show  of  for  niggers ! 
And  Josh  Perrott  loosened  his  neckcloth 
with  an  indignant  tug  of  the  forefinger,  and 

372 


J 


A   CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

went  off  into  another  train  of  thought. 
He  had  a  throbbing,  wavering  headache, 
the  outcome  of  thinking  so  hard  about  so 
many  things.  They  were  small  things, 
and  had  nothing  to  do  with  his  own  busi- 
ness ;  but  there  were  so  many  of  them, 
and  they  all  had  to  be  got  through  at  such 
a  pace,  and  one  thing  led  to  another. 

Ever  since  they  had  taken  him  he  had 
been  oppressed  by  this  plague  of  galloping 
thought,  with  few  intervals  of  rest  when 
he  could  consider  immediate  concerns. 
But  of  these  he  made  little  trouble.  The 
thing  was  done.  Very  well,  then,  he 
would  take  his  gruel  like  a  man.  He 
had  done  many  a  worse  thing,  he  said,  that 
had  been  thought  less  of. 

The  evidence  was  a  nuisance.  What 
was  the  good  of  it  all  ?  Over  and  over 
and  over  again.  At  the  inquest,  at  the 
police  court,  and  now  here.  Repeated, 
laboriously  taken  down,  and  repeated  again. 
And  now  it  was  worse  than  ever,  for  the 
373 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

judge  insisted  on  making  a  note  of  every- 
thing, and  wrote  it  down  slowly,  a  word 
at  a  time.  The  witnesses  were  like 
barrel-organs,  producing  the  same  old 
tune  mechanically,  without  changing  a 
note.  There  was  the  policeman  who  was 
in  Meakin  Street  at  twelve-thirty  on  the 
morning  of  the  fourth  of  the  month,  when 
he  heard  cries  of  Murder,  and  proceeded 
to  the  coffee-shop.  There  was  the  other 
policeman  who  also  "  proceeded  "  there, 
and  recognised  the  prisoner,  whom  he 
knew,  at  the  first-floor  window.  And  there 
was  the  sergeant  who  had  found  him  in 
the  cellar,  and  the  doctor  who  had  made 
an  examination,  and  the  knife,  and  the 
boots,  and  all  of  it.  It  was  Murder,  Mur- 
der, Murder,  still.  Why  ?  Was  n*t  it 
plain  enough  ?  He  felt  some  interest  in 
what  was  coming  —  in  the  sentence,  and 
the  black  cap,  and  so  on  —  never  having 
seen  a  murder  trial  before.  But  all  this 
repetition  oppressed  him  vaguely  amid  the 
374 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

innumerable  things  he  had  to  think  of,  one 
thing  leading  to  another. 

Hannah  and  Dicky  were  there,  sitting 
together  behind  the  glass  partition  that 
rose  at  the  side  of  the  dock.  Hannah's 
face  was  down  in  her  hands,  and  Dicky's 
face  was  thin  and  white,  and  he  sat  with 
his  neck  stretched,  his  lips  apart,  his  head 
aside  to  catch  the  smallest  word.  His 
eyes,  too,  were  red  with  strained,  unwink- 
ing attention.  Josh  felt  vaguely  that  they 
might  keep  a  bolder  face,  as  he  did  him- 
self. His  sprained  foot  was  still  far  from 
well,  but  he  stood  up,  putting  his  weight 
on  the  other.  He  might  have  been  al- 
lowed to  sit  if  he  had  asked,  but  that  would 
look  like  weakness. 

There  was  another  judge  this  time,  an 
older  one,  with  spectacles.  He  had  come 
solemnly  in,  after  lunch,  with  a  bunch  of 
flowers  in  his  hand,  and  Josh  thought  he 
made  an  odd  figure  in  his  long  red  gown. 
Why  did  he  sit  at  the  end  of  the  bench, 
375 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

instead  of  in  the  middle,  under  the  long 
sword  ?  Perhaps  the  old  gentleman,  who 
sat  there  for  a  little  while  and  then  went 
away,  was  the  Lord  Mayor.  That  would 
account  for  it.  There  was  another  room 
behind  the  bedroom  at  Weech's,  which  he 
had  never  thought  about.  Perhaps  the 
money  was  there,  after  all.  Could  they 
have  missed  any  hiding  place  in  the  shop 
parlour  ?  No :  there  was  the  round 
table,  with  the  four  chairs  about  it,  and 
the  little  sideboard ;  besides  the  texts  on 
the  wall,  and  two  china  figures  on  the 
mantelpiece  —  that  was  all.  There  was 
a  copper  in  the  wash-house,  but  there  was 
nothing  in  it.  The  garret  was  a  very 
good  place  to  keep  things  in ;  but  there 
was  a  strong  smell  of  stale  pickles.  He 
could  smell  it  now  —  he  had  smelt  it 
ever  since. 

The  judge  stopped  a  witness  to  speak  of 
a  draught  from  a  window.     Josh   Perrott 
watched  the   shutting  of  the    window  — 
376 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

they  did  it  with  a  cord.  He  had  not 
noticed  a  draught  himself.  But  pigeons 
were  flying  outside  the  panes  and  resting 
on  the  chimney-stacks.  Pud  Palmer 
tried  to  keep  pigeons  in  Jago  Row,  but  one 
morning  the  trap  was  found  empty.  A 
poulterer  gave  fourpence  each  for  them. 
They  were  ticketed  at  eighteenpence  a  pair 
in  the  shop,  and  that  was  fivepence  profit 
apiece  for  the  poulterer.  Tenpence  a 
pair  profit  on  eleven  pairs  was  nearly  ten 
shillings  —  ten  shillings  all  but  tenpence. 
They  would  n't  have  given  any  more  in 
Club  Row.  A  man  had  a  four-legged 
linnet  in  Club  Row,  but  there  was  a  show 
in  Bethnal  Green  Road  with  a  two-headed 
sheep.  It  was  outside  there  that  Ginger 
Stagg  was  pinched  for  lob-crawling.  And 
so  on,  and  so  on,  till  his  head  buzzed 
again. 

His    counsel    was    saying    something. 
How  long  had  he  been  talking  ?     What 
was   the  good  of  it  ?      He   had  told  him 
377 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

that  he  had  no  defense.  The  lawyer  was 
enlarging  on  the  dead  man's  iniquities, 
talking  of  provocation,  and  the  heat  of 
passion,  and  the  like.  He  was  aiming 
desperately  at  a  recommendation  to  mercy. 
That  was  mere  foolery. 

But  presently  the  judge  began  to  sum 
up.  They  were  coming  to  something  at 
last.  But  it  was  merely  the  thrice-told 
evidence  once  more.  The  judge  blinked 
at  his  notes,  and  went  at  it  again ;  the 
policeman  with  his  whistle,  and  the  other 
with  his  lantern,  and  the  doctor,  and  the 
sergeant,  and  the  rest.  It  was  shorter 
this  time,  though.  Josh  Perrott  turned 
and  looked  at  the  clock  behind  him,  with 
the  faces  over  it,  peering  from  the  gallery. 
But  when  he  turned  to  face  the  judge 
again  he  had  forgotten  the  time,  and 
crowded  trivialities  were  racing  through 
the  narrow  gates  of  his  brain  once  more. 

There  was  a  cry  for  silence,  and  then  a 
fresh  voice  spoke.  "  Gentlemen  of  the 
378 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

jury,  have  you  agreed  upon  your  ver- 
dict ? " 

"We  have."  The  foreman  was  an 
agitated,  colourless  man,  and  he  spoke  in  a 
low  tone. 

"Do  you  find  the  prisoner  at  the  bar 
guilty,  or  not  guilty  ?  " 

"  Guilty." 

Yes,  that  was  right ;  this  was  the  real 
business.  His  head  was  clear  and  ready 
now. 

"  And  is  that  the  verdict  of  you  all  ?  " 

"  Yes.'* 

Was  that  Hannah  sobbing  ? 

A  pale  parson  in  his  black  gown  came 
walking  along  by  the  bench,  and  stood 
like  a  tall  ghost  at  the  judge's  side,  his  eyes 
raised  and  his  hands  clasped.  The  judge 
took  a  black  thing  from  the  seat  beside 
him,  and  arranged  it  on  his  head.  It  was 
a  sort  of  soft  mortarboard.  Josh  noted 
curiously,  with  a  large  silk  tassel  hanging 
over  one  side,  giving  the  judge,  with  his 
379 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

wig  and  his  spectacles  and  his  red  gown,  a 
horribly  jaunty  look.  No  brain  could  be 
clearer  than  Josh  Perrott's  now. 

"  Prisoner  at  the  bar,  have  you  anything 
to  say  why  sentence  of  death  should  not 
be  passed  on  you  according  to  law  ? " 

"  No,  sir —  I  done  it.  On*y  'e  was  a 
worse  man  than  me  !  " 

The  clerk  of  Arraigns  sank  into  his 
place,  and  the  judge  spoke. 

"  Joshua  Perrott,  you  have  been  con- 
victed, on  evidence  that  can  leave  no 
doubt  whatever  of  your  guilt  in  the 
mind  of  any  rational  person,  of  the  hor- 
rible crime  of  wilful  murder.  The  cir- 
cumstances of  your  awful  offense  there  is 
no  need  to  recapitulate,  but  they  were  of 
the  most  brutal  and  shocking  character. 
You  deliberately,  and  with  preparation, 
broke  into  the  house  of  the  man  whose 
death  you  have  shortly  to  answer  for  in  a 
higher  court  than  this  :  whether  you  broke 
in  with  a  design  of  robbery  as  well  as  of 
380 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

revenge  by  murder,  I  know  not,  nor  is  it 
my  duty  to  consider:  but  you,  there,  with 
every  circumstance  of  callous  ferocity, 
sent  the  wretched  man  to  that  last  account 
which  you  must  shortly  render  for  your- 
self. Of  the  ill-spent  life  of  that  miserable 
man,  your  victim,  it  is  not  for  me  to 
speak,  nor  for  you  to  think.  And  I  do 
most  earnestly  beseech  you  to  use  the 
short  time  yet  remaining  to  you  on  this 
earth  in  true  repentance,  and  in  making 
your  peace  with  Almighty  God.  It  is  my 
duty  to  pronounce  sentence  of  that  pun- 
ishment which  not  I,  but  the  law  of  this 
country,  imposes  for  the  crime  which  you 
have  committed.  The  sentence  of  the 
Court  is:  that  you  be  taken  to  the  place 
whence  you  came,  and  thence  to  a  place  of 
execution:  and  that  you  be  there  Hanged 
by  the  Neck  till  you  be  Dead  :  and  may 
the  Lord  have  Mercy  on  your  Soul  !  *' 

"  Amen  !  "     It  was  from  the  tall  black 
figure. 

381 


ACHILD   OF    THE   JAGO 

Well,  well,  that  was  over.  The  gaoler 
touched  his  arm.  Right.  But  first  he 
took  a  quick  glance  through  the  glass 
partition.  Hannah  was  falling  over,  or 
something — a  mere  rusty,  swaying  bun- 
dle —  and  Dicky  was  holding  her  up  with 
both  arms.  Dicky's  face  was  damp  and 
grey,  and  twitching  lines  were  in  his 
cheeks.  Josh  took  a  step  toward  the 
partition,  but  they  hurried  him  away. 


XXXV 

All  this  hard  thinking  would  be  over 
in  half  an  hour  or  so.  What  was  to  come 
now  did  n*t  matter  j  no  more  than  a  mere 
punch  in  the  eye.  The  worst  was  over 
on  Saturday,  and  he  had  got  through  that 
all  right.  Hannah  was  very  bad,  and  so 
was  Dicky.  Em  cried  in  a  bewildered 
sort  of  way,  because  the  others  did.  Lit- 
tle Josh,  conceiving  that  his  father  was 
somehow  causing  all  the  tears,  kicked  and 
swore  at  him.  He  tried  to  get  Hannah 
to  smile  at  this,  but  it  was  no  go ;  and 
they  had  to  carry  her  out  at  last.  Dicky 
was  well-plucked  though,  bad  as  he  was. 
He  felt  him  shake  and  choke  when  he 
kissed  him,  but  he  walked  out  straight  and 
steady,  with  the  two  children.  Well,  it 
was  over,  ... 

383 


A    CHILD    OF    THE   JAGO 

He  hoped  they  would  get  up  a  break  in 
the  Jago  for  Hannah  and  the  youngsters. 
His  own  break  had  never  come  off — they 
owed  him  one.  The  last  break  he  was 
at  was  at  Mother  Gapp's,  before  the 
Dove-Laners  fell  through  the  floor.  It 
must  have  cost  Mother  Gapp  a  deal  of 
money  to  put  in  the  new  floor;  but 
then  she  must  have  made  a  lot  in  her  time, 
what  with  one  thing  and  another.  Some 
said  she  came  of  the  gipsies  that  used  to 
live  at  the  Mount  years  ago.  The  Mount 
was  a  pretty  thick  place  now,  but  not  so 
thick  as  the  Jago  :  the  Jagos  were  thick 
as  glue  and  wide  as  Broad  Street.  Bob 
the  Bender  fell  in  Broad  Street,  toy-getting, 
and  got  a  stretch  and  a  half.  .   .   . 

Yes,  yes,  of  course,  they  always  tolled 
a  bell.  But  it  was  rather  confusing,  with 
things  to  think  about. 

Ah,  they  had  come  at  last !  Come,  there 
was  nothing  more  to  think  about  now ; 
nothing  but  to  take  it  game.  Hold  tight 
3S4 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

—  Jago,  hold  tight.  .  .  .  "  No,  thank  you, 
sir  —  nothing  to  say,  special.  On'y  much 
obliged  to  ye,  thank  ye  kindly,  for  the  grub 
an* — an'  bein'  kind  an*  wot  not.  Thanks 
all  of  ye,  come  to  that.  Specially  you, 
sir/*   It  was  the  tall  black  figure  again.  .  .  . 

What,  this  was  the  chap,  was  it  ?  Seedy- 
looking.  Sort  of  undertaker's  man  to  look 
at.  All  right  —  straps.  Not  cords  to  tie, 
then.  Waist ;  wrists  ;  elbows ;  more 
straps  dangling  below  —  do  them  presently. 
This  was  how  they  did  it,  then.  .  .  .  This 
way  ? 

"  I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life,  saith 
the  Lord  :  he  that  believeth  in  Me,  though 
he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live  :  and  who- 
soever liveth  and  believeth  in  Me  shall 
never  die.** 

A  very  big  gate,  this,  all  iron,  painted 
white.  Round  to  the  right.  Not  very 
far,  they  told  him.  It  was  dark  in  the 
passage,  but  the  door  led  into  the  yard, 
where  it  was  light  and  open,  and  sparrows 
385 


A    CHILD    OP^    THE    JAGO 

were  twittering.  Another  door :  in  a 
shed. 

This  was  the  place.  All  white,  every- 
where —  frame  too  ;  not  black,  after  all. 
Up  the  steps.  .  .  .  Hold  tight :  not  much 
longer.     Stand  there  ?     Very  well. 

"  Man  that  is  born  of  a  woman  hath 
but  a  short  time  to  live,  and  is  full  of 
misery.  He  cometh  up,  and  is  cut  down, 
like  a  flower  :  he  fleeth  as  it  were  a  shadow, 
and  never  continueth  in  one  stay. 

"  In  the  midst  of  life " 


XXXVI 

It  was  but  a  little  crowd  that  stood  at 
the  Old  Bailey  corner  while  the  bell  tolled, 
to  watch  for  the  black  flag.  This  was  not 
a  popular  murder.  Josh  Perrott  was  not 
a  man  who  had  been  bred  to  better 
things  ;  he  did  not  snivel  and  rant  in  the 
dock ;  and  he  had  not  butchered  his  wife 
nor  his  child,  nor  anybody  with  a  claim  on 
his  gratitude  or  affection ;  so  that  nobody 
sympathized  with  him,  nor  got  up  a  peti- 
tion for  pardon,  nor  wrote  tearful  letters 
to  the  newspapers.  And  the  crowd  that 
watched  for  the  black  flag  was  a  small 
one,  and  half  of  it  came  from  the  Jago. 

While  it  was  watching,  and  while  the 

bell  was  tolling,  a  knot  of  people  stood  at  the 

Perrotts'  front-doorway,  in  Old  Jago  Street. 

Father  Sturtwent  across  as  soonasthesleep- 

387 


A  CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

ers  of  the  night  had  been  seen  away  from 
the  shelter,  and  spoke  to  Kiddo  Cook,  who 
stood  at  the  stair-foot  to  drive  off  intruders. 

"  They  say  she 's  been  sittin'  up  all 
night.  Father,"  Kiddo  reported  in  a  hushed 
voice.  "  An'  Poll 's  jest  looked  in  at  the 
winder  from  Walsh's,  and  says  she  can 
see  'em  all  kneelin*  round  a  chair  with  that 
little  clock  o'  theirs  on  it.  It 's  —  it 's 
more  'n  'alf  an  hour  yut.'* 

"  I  shall  come  here  myself  presently, 
and  relieve  you.  Can  you  wait  ?  You 
must  n't  neglect  trade,  you  know." 

"  I  '11  wait  all  day,  Father,  if  ye  like. 
Nobody  sha'n't  disturb  'em." 

When  Father  Sturt  returned  from  his 
errand,  "  Have  you  heard  anything  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  No,  Father,"  answered  Kiddo  Cook. 
"  They  ain't  moved." 

There  were  two  faint  notes  from  a  dis- 
tant steeple,  and  then  the  bell  of  St.  Leon- 
ards beat  out  the  inexorable  hour. 


XXXVII 

Kiddo  Cook  prospered.  The  stall  was 
a  present  fact,  and  the  awning  was  not  far 
ofFj  indeed,  he  was  vigilantly  in  search  of 
a  second-hand  one,  not  too  much  worn. 
But  with  all  his  affluence  he  was  not  often 
drunk.  Nothing  could  be  better  than  his 
pitch  —  right  out  in  the  High  Street,  in  the 
busiest  part,  and  hard  by  the  London  and 
County  branch  bank.  They  called  it 
Kiddo's  bank  in  the  Jago,  and  made  jokes 
about  alleged  deposits  of  his.  If  you 
bought  a  penn'orth  of  greens  from  Kiddo, 
said  facetious  Jagos,  he  did  n't  condescend 
to  take  the  money  himself;  he  gave  you  a 
slip  of  paper,  and  you  paid  at  the  bank. 
And  Kiddo  had  indulged  in  a  stroke  of 
magnificence  that  no  other  Jago  would  have 
3S9 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    J  AGO 

thought  of.  He  had  taken  two  rooms  in 
the  new  County  Council  dwellings.  The 
secret  was  that  Father  Sturt  had  agreed  to 
marry  Kiddo  Cook  and  Pigeony  Poll. 
There  would  be  plenty  for  both  to  do, 
what  with  the  stall  and  the  regular  round 
with  the  barrow. 

The  wedding-day  came  when  Hannah 
Perrott  had  been  one  week  a  widow.  For 
a  few  days  Father  Sturt  had  left  her  alone, 
and  had  guarded  her  privacy.  Then  seeing 
that  she  gave  no  sign,  he  went  with  what 
quiet  comfort  he  might,  and  bespoke  her 
attention  to  her  concerns.  He  invented 
some  charing  work  in  his  rooms  for  her. 
She  did  it  very  badly,  and  if  he  left  her 
long  alone,  she  w^ould  be  found  on  the 
floor,  with  her  face  in  a  chair-seat,  crying 
weakly.  But  the  work  was  something 
for  her  to  do  and  to  think  about,  and  by 
dint  of  bustling  it  and  magnifying  its  im- 
portance. Father  Sturt  brought  her  to  some 
degree  of  mindfulness  and  calm. 
390 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

Dicky  walked  that  morning  in  a  sort  of 
numb,  embittered  fury.  What  should  he 
do  now  ?  His  devilmost.  Spare  nobody 
and  stop  at  nothing.  Old  Beveridge  was 
right  that  morning  years  ago.  The  Jago 
had  got  him,  and  it  held  him  fast.  Now 
he  went  doubly  sealed  of  the  outcasts  :  a 
Jago  with  a  hanged  father.  Father  Sturt 
talked  of  work,  but  who  would  give  him 
work  ?  And  why  do  it  in  any  case  ?  What 
came  of  it  before  ?  No,  he  was  a  Jago  and  the 
world's  enemy  ;  Father  Sturt  was  the  only 
good  man  jjn  it  j  as  for  the  rest,  he  would 
spoil  them  when  Tie" could.  There  was 
something  for  to-morrow  night,  if  he  only 
could  get  calmed  down  enough  by  then. 
A  builder's  yard  in  Kingsland  with  an 
office  in  a  loft,  and  money  in  a  common 
desk.  Tommy  Rann  had  found  it,  and 
they  must  do  it  together ;  if  only  he  could 
get  this  odd  numbness  off  him,  and  have 
his  head  clear.  So  much  crying,  perhaps, 
and  so  much  trving  not  to,  till  his  head 
391 


A    CHILD    OF   THE    JAGO 

was  like  to  burst.  Deep-eyed  and  pale, 
he  dragged  around  into  Edge  Lane,  and  so 
into  New  Jago  Street. 

Jerry  Gullen*s  canary  was  harnessed  to 
the  barrow,  and  Jerry  himself  was  piling 
the  barrow  with  rags  and  bottles.  Dicky 
stood  and  looked ;  he  thought  he  would 
rub  Canary*s  head,  but  then  he  changed 
his  mind,  and  did  not  move.  Jerry  Gullen 
glanced  at  him  furtively  once  or  twice, 
and  then  said  :  "  Good  ole  moke  for  wear, 
ain't  V  ?  " 

"  Yus,"  Dicky  answered  moodily,  his 
talk  half  random.  "  *E  Ml  peg  out  soon 
now." 

''  'Im  ?  Not  'im.  W'y  I  bet  *e  '11  live 
longer  *n  you  will.     ^E  ain't  goin*  to  die." 

"  I  think  'e  'd  like  to,"  said  Dicky,  and 
slouched  on. 

Yes,  Canary  would  be  better  ofF,  dead. 
So  would  others.  It  would  be  a  comfort- 
able thing  for  himself  if  he  could  die 
quietly  then  and  there.  But  it  would 
392 


A    CHILD    OF   THE   JAGO 

never  do  for  mother  and  the  children  to  be 
left  helpless.  How  good  for  them  all  to 
go  off  easily  together,  and  wake  in  some 
pleasant  place,  say  a  place  like  Father 
Sturt*s  sitting  room,  and  perhaps  find  — 
but  there,  what  foolishness  ! 

What  was  this  unendurable  stupor  that 
clung  about  him  like  a  net  ?  He  knew 
everything  clearly  enough,  but  it  was  all 
in  an  atmosphere  of  dull  heedlessness. 
There  would  be  some  relief  in  doing  some- 
thing violent  —  in  smashing  something  to 
little  pieces  with  a  hammer. 

He  came  to  the  ruined  houses.  There 
was  a  tumult  of  yells,  and  a  crowd  of 
thirty  or  forty  lads  went  streaming  across 
the  open  waste,  waving  sticks. 

"  Come  on  !  come  on,  Jago !  'Ere 
they  are  !  '* 

A  fight  !  Ah,  what  more  welcome  ! 
And  Dove  Lane,  too  —  Dove  Lane  that 
had  taken  to  bawling  the  taunt,  "Jago 
cut-throats,"  since 

393 

\^1 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

He  was  in  the  thick  of  the  raid. 
"  Come  on,  Jago  !  Jago  !  *Ere  they  are  !  " 
Past  the  Board  School  and  through  Honey 
Jvane  they  went,  and  into  Dove  Lane  ter- 
ritory. A  small  crowd  of  Dove-Laners 
j^  I  broke  and  fled.  Straight  ahead  the  Jagos 
went,  till  they  were  suddenly  taken  in 
flank  at  a  turning  by  a  full  Dove  Lane 
mob.  The  Jagos  were  broken  by  the 
rush,  but  they  fought  stoutly,  and  the 
street  was  filled  with  a  surge  of  combat. 

"  J^go  '  Jago  hold  tight  !  " 

Thin,  wasted  and  shaken,  Dicky  fought 
like  a  tiger.  He  had  no  stick  till  he 
floored  a  Dove-Laner  and  took  his  from 
him,  but  then  he  bludgeoned  apace,  callous 
to  every  blow,  till  he  fought  through  the 
thick,  and  burst  out  at  the  edge  of  the 
fray.  He  pulled  his  cap  tight,  and  swung 
back,  almost  knocking  over,  but  disre- 
garding, a  leather-aproned,  furtive  hunch- 
back, who  turned  and  came  at  his  heels. 

"  Jago  !  Jago  hold  tight !  "  yelled  Dicky 
394 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

Perrott.  "  Come  on,  Father  Start's 
boys!" 

He  was  down.  Just  a  punch  under  the 
arm  from  behind.  As  he  rolled,  face 
under,  he  caught  a  single  glimpse  of  the 
hunchback,  running.  But  what  was  this — 
all  this  ? 

A  shout  went  up.  "  Stabbed  !  Chived ! 
They  chived  Dicky  Perrott !  " 

The  fight  melted.  Somebody  turned 
Dicky  on  his  back,  and  he  moaned,  and 
lay  gasping.  He  lifted  his  dabbled  hands, 
and  looked  at  them,  wondering.  They 
tried  to  lift  him,  but  the  blood  poured  so 
fast  that  they  put  him  down.  Somebody 
had  gone  for  a  surgeon. 

"  Take  me  *ome,"  said  Dicky,  faintly, 
with  an  odd  gurgle  in  his  voice.  "Not 
'awspital." 

The  surgeon  came  running,  with  police- 
men at  his  heels.  He  ripped  away  the 
clothes  from  about  the  wound,  and  shook 
his  head.  It  was  the  lung.  Water  was 
395 


A    CHILD    OF    THE    JAGO 

brought,  and  cloths,  and  an  old  door. 
They  put  Dicky  on  the  door,  and  carried 
him  toward  the  surgery ;  and  two  lads 
who  stayed  by  him  were  sent  to  bring  his 
friends. 

The  bride  and  bridegroom,  meeting  the 
news  on  the  way  home,  set  off  at  a  run, 
and  Father  Sturt  followed. 

"  Good  Gawd,  Dicky,'*  cried  Poll, 
tearing  her  way  to  the  shutter  as  it  stopped 
at  the  surgery  door,  "  wot 's  this  ?  '* 

Dicky's  eye  fell  on  the  flowered  bonnet 
that  graced  the  wedding,  and  his  lip  lifted 
with  the  shade  of  a  smile.  "Luck, 
Pidge  !  " 

He  was  laid  out  in  the  surgery.  A 
crowd  stood  about  the  door,  while  Father 
Sturt  went  in.  The  vicar  lifted  his  eye- 
brows questioningly,  and  the  surgeon  shook 
his  head.     It  was  a  matter  of  minutes. 

Father     Sturt      bent    over    and     took 
Dicky's  hand.     "  My    poor   Dicky,"    he 
said,  "  who  did  this  ?  " 
396 


A    CHILD    OP^    THE    JAGO 

"  Dunno,  Fa'er." 

The  lie  —  the  staunch  Jago  lie.    Th^u 
shalt  not  nark. 

"  Fetch   mother  an'  the  kids.    Fa'er  ! " 

"  Yes,  my  boy  !  " 

"  Tell  Mist'    Beveridge  there  's  'nothcr    / 
way  out  —  better.'*  | 


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